Painted In Red
by Child of the Wilderness
Summary: Elphaba's story has been told and retold a thousand times . . . but what really happened, all those years ago? Some remember. In their minds, it is painted in red. Musical verse with mild book elements.
1. Prologue

**I originally wrote this for myself, so it's complete. I'll post quickly. **

**I borrowed a few phrases/ideas from other authors. Don't worry - I credit everyone at the end. If you see an idea you own, feel honored that I adored it enough to put it in my story :) **

**No copyright infringement is intended.  
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_"Where do you go, when you're alone and in your head?_

_Why do they know you? Is your story painted in red?_

_What do you see? What do you dream when you're awake?_

_What have they seen of you?_

_Are you afraid of what's been said?_

_And if time stood still—if you won't be your witness, no one ever will!_

_I hear a voice that's in my head: 'don't let me down!'"_

_- Idina Menzel, Don't Let Me Down_

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**Prologue**

_Summer 1317 (Lurlinist Calendar)_

Summer lived a full life that year; a life that was laughing and golden and crowned with perfect moments woven together in joy.

Young Summer saw a very important birth: a Society baby born to Lady Irielle Upland of the Upper Uplands. The girl was as golden as summer, as pink as apple blossoms, and promised to possess more beauty than even her mother had.

By Middle Summer, when the wheat was ripening in the fields of Munchkinland and the Upper Uplands were very warm, Missy Galinda Upland was smiling and had curls the color of harvested grain.

Dying Summer ushered in another birth: a Prince to the Arjiki Tribe in the Vinkus. He was dark as melted chocolate and the full Harvest moon blessed the night of his arrival. His mother called him Fiyero after an ancient ruler of their tribe because prophecy said he would accomplish great things.

The two babies were everything their mothers could have wanted; both women looked into the future with laughter on their lips and hearts full of hope for their newborn children. If Fate were kinder and life simpler, those Summer babies would have danced through life and love together. They were born to be forever. Lady Fate, however, does not smile on happily-ever-after; she did not wish another fairytale ending for Fiyero and Galinda.

It was Middle Winter before Fate pulled her first cruel trick on Fiyero Tiggular and Galinda Upland. A moonless, blustery night three weeks before Lurlinamas saw the year's third important birth: Elphaba Thropp, Third Eminent Thropp Descending. Her skin was green and she was crowned hair the color of sin. Her dark, wise eyes unsettled her elders. Elphaba was, in a word, unnatural.

Galinda grew into a pretty, sweet girl with golden curls and blue eyes. She was exactly the sort of child her Society mother had wanted.

Fiyero ran reckless amongst the Arjiki and grew into a happy, careless boy who was adored by his mother (and almost everyone else).

Elphaba, unwanted from her first moments, grew restless, passionate, and fiery; everything she touched was changed. Neither Galinda nor Fiyero had the strength to withstand an encounter with the walking contradiction Fate placed in their paths.


	2. Dear Old Shiz

Dear Old Shiz

_Fall 1335 (Lurlinist Calendar)_

Shiz University was almost as old as time and it showed. In the very center of campus, Menera Hall stood in a proudly tribute to Lurline; it was built of black stone, carved by time, and covered by ivy. Seven or eight generations of academia had shuffled through Menera on their way to greatness. They had left strange graffiti beneath the ivy, seven replaced windows, and indistinct legends to haunt lecture rooms.

Maguire Hall loomed to the east of Menera; male students had stayed there since the founding of Shiz. Crage Hall huddled to the west of Menera; female students had stayed there since Shiz began admitting them.

Winding brick paths wove between the buildings and rumor said the first female Shizers had tunneled all the way from Crage to Maguire. Neither students nor staff had discovered the mythic tunnel and no one had written of it in over a hundred years. Every generation of Shizers—professors and undergrads alike—hunted for that tunnel. The students coveted a clandestine connection between the boys' and girls' halls (no one wanted to be caught lurking outside after curfew). The staff fancied themselves capable enough to keep this clandestine connection closed.

Three weeks after Harvest, restless students congregated in the Menera Commons. Their bright bags, boxes and clothes lent pretentious cheer to the University. As recent arrivals, they had not caught the solemnity of Shiz—a college legendary for learning, not laughter. They had not donned their blue-and-white uniforms, attended their first lecture, or become accustomed to the scowling portraits on the walls. They had not yet become Shizers.

Galinda Upland—a self-assured splash of pink amidst the sea of uncertain students—would spend years at Shiz before she learned the word _solemn._ She had come to Shiz with one overt purpose: to study Sorcery from celebrity Sorcery professor, Madame Morrible. Society gossips guessed Galinda was (covertly) hoping to find Prince Charming on the mossy University paths. They were correct.

Elphaba Thropp pushed her sister's wheelchair across the uneven brick path to Menera, where the pair settled among the masses as successfully as explosives settle among warm ashes. Nessarose squirmed in her wicker wheelchair, longing to be free of her sister's firm green grip. Acceptance here—among the students—was essential and Elphaba was renowned for her unacceptability. Nessa glanced at her father and received a soft smile.

Even the dullest Shiz student noticed the wide-eyed stares the Thropp family was collecting. Elphaba sighed and strode to a prominent place where she could see and be seen by most of the students.

"What?" she asked in a tone like burnt black coffee "what are you all looking at? Oh, do I have something in my teeth? Or wait . . . is my underskirt showing? All right, let us just get this over with: No, I am not seasick. Yes, I've always been green. No, I didn't eat grass as a child—"

Legends at Shiz grow like flames on a well-fed fire and Elphaba's outspokenness is no exception. It is said that Frexpar Thropp dragged Elphaba away before she finished her speech, but uncertainty taints the legend when she was jerked from her imaginary stage. Some say the Governor slapped Elphaba, others that he shouted, others that the quarrel was quiet. Certainly, the Thropp family engaged in their own triangular battle which ended with the Governor publicly giving Nessa jeweled shoes—fit for the future Governor, he announced—and marching away. Elphaba reputedly responded by saying:

"Well, what could he get me? I clash with everything."

Galinda Upland felt rather scandalized by the Thropp family. Prior to their arrival at Shiz, she knew little of them; they stayed out of the gossip columns and kept mostly to Munchkinland. Miss Nessarose seemed compliant and sweet, but Miss Elphaba! Galinda had never seen anyone so disgusticified or so forthright. Miss Elphaba's behavior was unladylike and scandalous in a decidedly un-scandalicious way. Galinda was certain she could _never_ associate with such a girl.

Madame Morrible missed the Thropp family confrontation. She glided into the Commons (a few minutes after Frexpar Thropp marched out) and glanced at the sea of students. There were _names_ among them! It had been a disappointment to hear that Master Fiyero Tiggular would not join the ranks of Shizers, but the disheartening news paled in light of new gossip: the Arjiki prince had been expelled from one University shortly after their Orientation. He had lasted less than a week—something about geese in the Headmaster's office.

When the Commons quieted enough, Morrible launched into her classic Orientation speech:

"Welcome, new Shizers! I am Madame Morrible, head-Shiztress here at Shiz University. Whether you are here to study law, logic, or linguification, I know I speak for my fellow faculty members when I say we have nothing but the highest hopes for some of you!"

Morrible had been Headmistress over several graduating classes and no longer had to contemplate her welcoming words; they were second nature. It was also second nature to seek the more _important_ students and see to their wellbeing before addressing other concerns. This year, Nessarose Thropp was high on Morrible's list, especially as the Headmistress was doing something unprecedented with the handicapped Governor's daughter.

"Miss Nessarose, isn't it?" Morrible gushed, "What a tragically beautiful girl you are."

Nothing could have prepared Morrible for the personage standing behind Miss Nessa's wheelchair. She was slight, dressed in black, and she was very green.

Elphaba noticed the Headmistress' startled glance and sighed inwardly. She had expected as much, but sometimes the wide eyes and whispers were just _too much_—like earlier, when she had lectured the entire Commons. It would have been nice to hide in her dorm and wait for some goodly and pitying person to deliver Nessa.

"I'm the other daughter, Elphaba," the green girl said, her tone like tea steeped too long. "I'm beautifully tragic."

"Oh! Well, I'm sure you're very bright," Morrible consoled, her attention still fixed on Nessa.

"Bright! She's phosphorescent," a student called. Elphaba scowled.

Madame Morrible sighed. This would _not_ do! The Governor's other daughter, shunned and spurned because of her unusual coloration. Shiz could suffer for it someday. Morrible turned to the students with a false smile.

"Now Shizers," she announced, "it is time to handle room allocations—I believe you have your assignments, but if there are any questions or pressing concerns, do see me before you become too confusified."

Galinda fluttered like a pink hummingbird and waited approximately three clock-ticks to secure the Headmistress' attention.

"Is this regarding a room allocation, dearie?" Morrible asked.

"No—thank you for asking. I've already been assigned a private suite," Galinda trilled "but I wanted to speak with you _personally_. I am Galinda Upland—of the Upper Uplands? I have applied to your Sorcery seminar . . . my sole purpose in coming to Shiz is to study Sorcery with you. Perhaps you remember my entrance essay on magic wands?"

"Ah, yes. But you see, I do not offer my Seminar every term—only when someone quite _special_ comes along."

"Exactly!"

Madame Morrible brushed Galinda aside. Galinda had never been brushed aside before and she found it was not to her taste. She turned to a nearby Munchkin boy and declared the injustice of Shiz University.

"I doubt she even _read_ my essay!"

"Oh, Galinda, that's awful!" the boy exclaimed.


	3. The Wizard and I

Miss Galinda's shriek against Morrible's injustice offered Elphaba her opportunity. Elphaba rolled her eyes at Miss Galinda and the Munchkin boy—Boq—who was probably the only student unsurprised by Elphaba's appearance and certainly the first to fall to Miss Galinda's charms. Elphaba doubted he was the last. Miss Galinda looked like the sort who thrived on attention and always had a bevy of admirers.

"Madame Morrible," Elphaba said, "we have not yet received our room assignment."

"Well, the Governor made his concern for your sister's well being quite apparent. She will share my apartment, where I can assist her as needed."

Elphaba grimaced. "I've always looked after my sister . . ."

"Elphaba!" Nessarose snatched her sister's hand, squeezing it in a subtle reminder not to cause another spectacle.

"The Governor never mentioned you," Morrible huffed "oh well, I'm sure we can find someplace to put you!"

"Yes, but Madame—"

Morrible would hear no argument. She had agonized over the choice to keep Miss Nessarose Thropp nearby and decided in favor; now the idea was firmly rooted and, as Headmistress, no one would say her nay.

Galinda was attending to her indignation: never before had anyone dared to insinuate that she, Galinda Upland, was less than extremely special.

"Now, which of you young ladies will share your room with Miss Elphaba?" Morrible asked the brightly clothed masses.

Galinda was decidedly not attending to Madame Morrible; she did not hear the question but she saw the Headmistress turn away from Miss Elphaba and Miss Nessarose. Her opportunity had arrived!

"Madame Morrible!" Galinda exclaimed.

"Oh, well thank you my dear. That is very good of you! You see, Miss Elphaba, you can share with Miss Galinda."

Galinda gasped.

"Madame, no you don't understand—" Elphaba tried.

"To your rooms!" Morrible directed, waving her arms vaguely toward the portraits lining the Commons.

Orientation was longer than necessary; the Menera Commons were gloomy and the students excitified to begin their life away from home. There was a stampede for the doors—boys rushing out the eastern exit and girls skipping out the western archway. The Commons echoed with their laughter. Madame Morrible gripped the wicker handles of Miss Nessa's wheelchair and headed for the exit nearest the faculty apartments.

"Let her go!" Elphaba shrieked. The lanterns flickered, students halted, and silence reigned. Suddenly, it felt like a lightning storm was fast approaching.

If a storm was brewing, it never broke. Instead, Nessa's wheelchair glided across the Commons and into Elphaba's waiting grasp.

"How did you do that?" Madame Morrible gasped.

Galinda gaped at her new roommate. It was going to be an excitifying, horrificifying term!

"You promised things would be different here!" Nessa hissed. She pushed herself away from her sister.

Madame Morrible strode toward the girls. The lanterns continued to flicker in time with Elphaba's breathing and the air pulsed with static anger. Elphaba knelt by her sister's wheelchair.

"Has this happened before?" Morrible asked.

Elphaba nodded, barely glancing at the Headmistress. "Something just comes over me sometimes—something I, I can't describe. I'll try to control myself and—I'm sorry, Nessa."

"Never apologize for talent!" Morrible exclaimed, "Talent is a gift—and that's my special talent, encouraging talent. Elphaba, have you ever considered a career in Sorcery?"

"Not really." Elphaba clutched the wheel of Nessa's chair, her knuckles nearly white. The lanterns steadied themselves and the air lightened.

"I shall tutor you privately and take no other students!" Morrible announced.

"What?" Galinda shrieked.

Elphaba stared at Madame Morrible, her face paler than usual.

Galinda, watching the green girl's color fade, thought Elphaba might be pretty were she given the chance. Not that anyone would teach a freak about makeup and clothes, but the potential was there.

Nessa pried her sister's fingers loose and wheeled herself away, wiping tears of shame from her face. A _Sorceress_ for a sister! What strange horrors were invading her world?

"Oh, Miss Elphaba," Morrible crowed, "many years have I waited for a gift like yours to appear. Why I predict the Wizard could make you his magic grand vizier! My dear, my dear, I'll write at once to the Wizard—tell him of you in advance. With a talent like yours, dear, there is a definish chance if you work as you should—you'll be making good!"

Morrible snatched Nessa's wheelchair and scurried off to her apartment. Galinda sat on the edge of the Menera Commons' fountain and watched her roommate. Elphaba stayed where she was, kneeling on the floor. She blushed (brown like faded ink) and her black eyes sparkled as they had never sparkled before. Galinda found it unsettling to look at the green girl's face: its unlined innocence whispered of Lurline, the girl Ozma, but fire lurked behind Elphaba's black eyes—dangerous, unnatural fire that Galinda did not like.

"Unlimited, my future is unlimited," Elphaba breathed, and the lanterns brightened.


	4. What Is This Feeling?

**Sorry about the short chapter; next one will be up shortly.  
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Elphaba Thropp had no choice but to detest her roommate. The blonde bounced and bubbled and wore brilliant colors; she called her parents "Momsie" and "Popsicle" and was nothing if not a Society beauty. Galinda had a following of "friends" within five clock-ticks of her appearance at Shiz (not to mention seven trunks and fifteen hatboxes).

Galinda Upland had no choice but to loathe her roommate. The green girl always wore black, owned three pairs of shoes (as opposed to her massive book collection), and rarely smiled. As far as Galinda knew, Elphaba never laughed. In fact, Elphaba had no friends (except Nessa), spoke kindly to Boq, and was entirely disgusticified.

The girls agreed on one point and one point only: their status as roommates was due to catastrophic confusion and was decidedly temporary.

Elphaba thought her brain might melt into boredom if she spent much time with her giggling roommate. As the semester progressed, the green girl fell into a routine: she haunted the library and returned home only to bathe and sleep. When the library closed or Elphaba was too restless to read, she haunted a Deki's Coffeehouse. The corner coffeehouse was always dim and served Vinkan whisky in its darker coffees. In fact, Deki's denizens were mostly aspiring musicians who sipped cold coffee and ate cheap bread. It was a perfect hideaway from the snooty bustle of Shiz.

Galinda thought loathing Elphaba was almost as entertaining as being friends. She garnered support from fellow students (who thought Elphaba was disgusticified) and hoped for scandalicious gossip about Shiz's favorite terror. Elphaba studied, read, and vanished rather often. The green girl was reputedly lived in the library and some students had spied her entering the least swankified coffeehouse in town. Galinda never wondered why Elphaba had no friends; it was obvious, really—she was antisocial and impossible.


	5. Something Bad

Most residents of Shiz University avoided Deki's Coffeehouse. Shiz was the snobbiest, proudliest University in Oz and its students splurged on expensive delicacies at corporate coffee shops. The musty faculty rarely ventured off campus at all, thus inadvertently allowing students freedom in the town.

Dr. Dillamond, Goat professor of Life Sciences was the exception. He not only ventured away from the University's vine-draped walls but also frequented Deki's. It was in the shabbiest coffeehouse in town that Dillamond encountered his star student, sipping cold coffee and nibbling a scone. He joined her; a friendship formed around cold coffee, scones, and discussions about whatever matters interested both the professor and student. As an Animal, Dillamond was outcast—like Elphaba—and both found comfort in a friend who suffered persecution at Shiz.

By Midwinter, Elphaba and Dr. Dillamond's coffeehouse chats were tradition; they never scheduled meetings but allowed Chance to bring them both to Deki's when they could talk. When frost blurred the windowpanes and snow softened the sidewalks, Deki's began serving steaming cocoa along with their usual menu. Dr. Dillamond stuck to black coffee, but Elphaba discovered the wonders of hot chocolate—she enjoyed its rich warmth so much she nearly invited Galinda to join her, just to share the goodness with someone who would appreciate it. Galinda was barely speaking to Elphaba, though, and the deafening silence in their dorm convinced the green girl her invitation would be scorned.

Ten days before Lurlinamas Break, someone vandalized Dr. Dillamond's classroom; the words _Animals Should Be Seen and Not Heard_ were scrawled across his blackboard in red paint. That day, Dr. Dillamond dismissed his lecture early—much to the jubilation of his students. Only Elphaba stayed to scrub away the offending message and console her favorite professor. When the blackboard was clean, Dr. Dillamond and Elphaba escaped to Deki's for coffee, cocoa, and soup.

"Oh, Miss Elphaba," Dr. Dillamond said, "the things one hears these days: dreadful things! There are only rumors, but still, what's said is enough to frighten to anyone with paws!"

As they sipped their coffee and cocoa, Dr. Dillamond spoke of professors and preachers who had lost their ability to speak.

"Dr. Dillamond, if something bad is happening to the Animals, someone's got to tell the Wizard. That's why we have a Wizard—so nothing bad can happen," Elphaba said when he had finished his stories.

Dr. Dillamond sighed. "I hope you're right, Miss Elphaba."

"It couldn't happen here in Oz," Elphaba insisted.

* * *

Galinda and Elphaba both breathed a sigh of relief when the semester broke for Lurlinamas. Galinda's Momsie sent a carriage. Elphaba's father sent a Munchkin servant to fetch Nessa and instructions to leave his eldest daughter at the University.

Elphaba was content to wander the deserted, frosty paths (she refused to explore serenaded by snickers from her fellow students); she reveled in reading in her own bed, undisturbed by her blonde roommate. The University café closed for break, but Deki's doors were open. Elphaba subsisted on cheap coffee and bread from her favorite coffeehouse and thought her freedom was a little like heaven.

Alone on Lurlinamas Eve, Elphaba tested her first levitation spell on an overstuffed corduroy chair from the Crage sitting room; the library had stiff wooden chairs that left Elphaba with a backache and she intended to relocate her favorite Crage chair to the unfrequented book stacks. The chair moved at Elphaba's shaky command but the young witch stood transfixed, staring at the corner she'd cleared. Pale green light emanated from a trapdoor beneath the ancient chair.

"The tunnel," Elphaba whispered to the still air. She reached out and touched the magical trapdoor; it groaned open on dusty hinges, stretching after a hundred-odd years of sleep. Elphaba lowered herself into the dim tunnel. There were empty sconces on the walls, glowing with their own green light. Elphaba laughed. "You know, little tunnel," she said, "I'm probably the only person in Shiz who doesn't care that you exist and has no one with whom to share your secret."


	6. Dancing Through Life

Fiyero Tiggular slept through most of his journey to Shiz University. He was certain this new school would like the other two: packed with dusty academics and fossilized professors who sported no sense of fun. Why in Oz should he listen to lectures when he could be overseeing geese chewing the Headmaster's books? Why should he attend a sunrise lecture after launching firecrackers from the roof? Schools made no sense to the reckless prince.

Galinda bounced and shrieked the day of her return to Shiz. She was not looking forward to ivy-covered walls, gothic stone, or her ivy-colored roommate but the _news _eclipsed all her horror. It was _Ozmopolitan _official: Arjiki Prince Fiyero Tiggular had recently enrolled at Shiz. Even another semester rooming with Miss Elphaba was worth a chance to meet the prince. Galinda felt she would endure anything to meet the prince who defined _scandalicious_.

Elphaba's heaven was ending. Lurlinamas Break breathed its last, and with it died Elphaba's freedom. She could no longer take long walks, dance in newly fallen snow, or sit on her windowsill and wait for sunrise. She would hide, skulk, and avoid insults. She would study and pray—to whatever deity might listen—that Father would let her remain at Shiz.

Elphaba was enjoying a last lonely ramble when Fiyero Tiggular's carriage careened onto the campus. Fiyero's horse reared and the carriage nearly crashed into Elphaba, who plopped into a pile of snow beside the path.

"Sorry miss!" Fiyero's driver called.

Fiyero stared, openmouthed, at the green girl left in his wake.

"Sorry," the prince whispered. Elphaba did not hear him.

* * *

The status of Crage Hall's stormiest roommates remained as it had been before Lurlinamas Break: silent. Galinda and Elphaba exchanged cursory greetings and exchanged necessary words but left each other—mostly—alone. Elphaba was used to a peaceful room where she could read; Galinda was used to giggling and discussing new fashions with Momsie. Both were disappointified that nothing had changed, though neither was willing to extend the olive branch of friendship.

* * *

Fiyero Tiggular's first week at Shiz was inevitably horrificifying: he had five boring classes, had received three marriage proposals, and had enough homework to suffocate under. It was time to be expelled. The Arjiki prince spent all night planning his welcome party and his scandalicious open-invitation in the Menera Commons.

The Commons were a favorite lunch location for students who wished to be seen. Fiyero wanted nothing more than to be seen, heard, and dragged to Madame Morrible's office for expulsion. When the noon bell rang, Fiyero was standing on the North stairs. As the last chime faded, he began to speak in his princeliest tone:

"Shiz is just like every other school in Oz. It teaches all the _wrong lessons_. I've been kicked out of enough schools to know by now; there is nothing worth learning here. They're trying to make you less shallow. Why stress and study strife? Live the _unexamined_ life. See, life is painless when you're brainless and really—it's just life. Nothing matters except knowing that _nothing matters_."

Fiyero grinned. It was working. He had their attention.

Galinda stared at the Arjiki prince. He sounded so _smart_ when he talked like that, and really, he was right. Why should she stress about school when her education was useless? She would marry, like Momsie, and raise little Galindas. It would be easier than listening to dusty professors or staring at boring books all day.

"What's the most swankified place in town?" the prince asked his fellow students.

"That would be the Ozdust Ballroom," Galinda replied with a patented giggle.

Fiyero blew the helpful blonde a kiss and declared: "That sounds perfect! Let's go down to the Ozdust Ballroom, we'll meet there later tonight; I'll find the prettiest girl and give her a whirl!"

Fiyero whirled in a lopsided, partner-less pirouette and leapt off the stairs. The prince was approaching his helpful blonde but a Munchkin boy beat him to her. If the Munchkin had been aware that Prince Fiyero Tiggular was watching him, he would not have had the courage to speak. As it was, he did not notice Fiyero's stare and approached his beloved without fear of retribution:

"Miss Galinda?" the Munchkin asked, "I hope you'll save at least one dance for me. I'll be right there, waiting, all night."

Fiyero frowned. He did not like a Munchkin flirting with his favorite girl—Galinda.

"Oh, that's so kind," Galinda replied, "But it would be even kinder if you could find someone to invite Miss Nessa. It would be unfair of us to go on a spree without her."

"Maybe I could invite her," the Munchkin suggested.

"Oh Bick, really? You would do that for me?" Miss Galinda fluttered her eyelashes at the smitten boy.

"I would do anything for you, Miss Galinda," the boy—Bick—vowed, and dashed off to do his diva's bidding.

"You're good," Fiyero complimented the blonde; vaguely he felt as if someone were poking him with pins and needles—the girl, Galinda, was an excellent manipulator. She was almost as unsettling as the green girl he had nearly killed on his first day.

"I don't know what you mean," Galinda giggled.

Fiyero shook his head to clear his uncertainty.

"So?" Galinda asked, arching a perfect eyebrow.

"So, I'll be picking you up around eight?" Fiyero asked.

Galinda nodded. Satisfied, Fiyero dashed up the North stairs; he had learned long ago to leave a little mystery for the first date—talk too long before taking a girl out and she got dangerous ideas about diamond rings.

Galinda practically danced back to Crage, her lunch forgotten. Arjiki Prince Fiyero Tiggular was picking her up tonight! She even grinned at Elphaba and bounced onto her roommate's bed—the closest she had ever come to touching the green girl.

"Have you heard?" Galinda trilled.

"Heard what?" Elphaba asked without looking up from her book.

"Prince Fiyero is throwing a party! It's so excitifying! And he's asked _me_ to go with him! Aren't you thrillified for me?"

"Congratulations," Elphaba muttered, "now you've snared yourself a prince, can I _please_ keep studying?"

Fifteen minutes later, Elphaba sighed and retreated to the library. The green girl was stubborn and outspoken, but Galinda won most of their battles by producing perfume and promising to make Elphaba presentable. Both girls knew Galinda meant mischief when she suggested a makeover; even if she had meant well the colors which complimented her sunny beauty would have clashed with Elphaba's sage skin.

* * *

By the time Elphaba returned, floofy dresses—mostly pink—were scattered across every available surface and heaped on both girls' beds. Galinda stood in front of the mirror balancing a phial of glitter on her palm. Her fingers were steady as she applied the sparkles to her eyes.

"Oz, aren't you at your party yet?" Elphaba asked by way of greeting.

"Miss Elphaba," Galinda replied, "Fiyero isn't picking me up until eight. I'm shocked you didn't know." She pirouetted in a whirlwind of glitter that settled around her like sand on the desert.

"Twenty-nine minutes to peace," Elphaba sighed, "can you manage not to kill me before you leave?"

"Before _I_ leave? Does that mean you aren't coming?" Galinda turned to fix wide, sparkling eyes on her roommate.

"Stop staring. Is it so hard to remember that being green does not mean I grow roots or disappear? I am not a walking tree or a ghost. And no, I am not attending your little soirée."

"But _everyone_ is going."

"I know. Nessa and I were just talking about it—and you, coincidentally."

"You _can't_ miss this party, Elphaba. I have a hat that would look fantastic on you, and I want to see you wear it somewhere special. Do come." Galinda pleaded.

Elphaba stared at her roommate. "Really? You want me there?" she asked.

"Of course! This is too thrillifying not to share!" Galinda bounced into her closet and reappeared holding a pointed black hat. "Look! It's really, uh, sharp, don't you think? You know black is this year's pink. You deserve each other, this hat and you—you're both so, smart."

"Fine," Elphaba muttered and snatched the pointed black hat from her roommate, "but I'm coming after you leave. I'm not tagging along on your date with this prince person."

* * *

Fiyero gulped his spiked punch and grinned. Madame Morrible was weaving her way through the dancing students like a shark after blood—his blood. He had succeeded in garnering a third expulsion and he was _free_. There were only a few more Universities to be kicked out of, and then Fiyero's father would have to teach him the practical way: watching, living, experiencing.

Galinda groaned when Madame Morrible appeared nearby; the party was busted, and Elphaba had never showed—never worn the hideocious hat in public, never made it to the "worst-dressed" column of _Ozmopolitan._

"Sweet Oz," Fiyero whispered when Madame Morrible pulled Galinda aside, "I'm not expelled."

Morrible kept her hand on Galinda's arm after pulling the girl away from Fiyero. A few curious students watched, but most continued dancing and hoping Madame Morrible would leave before anything serious happened; they were having too much fun for seriousness.

"I have something for you," Morrible announced, handing Galinda a delicate wand.

"Madame," Galinda gasped, "a training wand. Oh, how can I ever express my gratitution!"

"Well, don't thank me," Morrible sniffed, "it was your roommate's idea, not mine."

"What, Elphaba?"

"Yes, Miss Elphaba requested that I include you in our Sorcery Seminar. She insisted I tell you this very night or she would leave the class."

"But . . . why?"

"I have no idea. My personal opinion is that you do not have what it takes. I hope you prove me wrong—I doubt you will."

Fiyero sighed inwardly. He could not believe that a grand party (spiked punch included) fell flat after his other expulsion attempts. Really, were geese and fireworks worse than drunken undergrads? He doubted it. One glance at Galinda told him he had concerns that were more pressing than his eminent expulsion. Fiyero was sure he could get himself expelled next week if tonight failed to produce the desired results.

"What is it?" Fiyero asked his date.

"I got what I wanted," Galinda replied, but her eyes sparkled from something wetter than the glitter she had applied.

"Well, then what's the matter?"

Society girls could be so—so flighty sometimes. Fiyero's frustration with Galinda's shallowness was hypocritical, but the prince did not know the meaning of that word. He had never paid attention in class.

"Nothing!" Galinda trilled.

"Good! Let's dance."

Fiyero wrapped his fingers around Galinda's tiny ones and twirled them into the center of the dance floor. It was difficult, dancing with this fairy girl; Fiyero was known for his strong lead, but he had never balanced himself against someone so small. Before Fiyero had finished forming his opinion about the girl in his arms, she gasped. Couples around them had stopped dancing and everyone was gaping at the staircase.

The girl standing on the stairs was stunning and—green. She was clothed in black and had crowned her raven hair with a pointy hat unlike anything Fiyero had seen before. Everyone was laughing, but Fiyero wondered why; true, the girl was different but surely she had friends to surround her and make her forget the stares of lesser beings. She took the hat off and crushed it against her chest. Fiyero sighed inwardly. Why had she worn it at all, if not for laughs?

"Who in Oz is that?" Fiyero asked the shivering girl he held.

"She's my roommate. Please don't stare."

"How can you help it?"

Suddenly, the green girl did something unpredicted. She squared her shoulders and strode down the stairs. Fiyero had never seen such courage. The green girl had faced the demons of laughter and social shame—the demons which drove many near to insanity—and she had won. How in Oz was anyone that brave and beautiful? The green girl stood in the center of the Ozdust dance floor, returned the pointy hat to her head, and began to dance.

Elphaba was not a dancer by nature, and she felt as awkward as the walking tree she claimed not to resemble. She took a deep breath and envisioned the things she loved: the winter sun rising, the golden wheat before harvest, the richness of cocoa and friendly chats, and the companionship of books.

Galinda clung to Fiyero as she watched Elphaba's eerie dance.

"Well, I'll say this much for her," Fiyero said, "she doesn't give a twit what anyone else thinks."

Galinda thought she might cry—and in front of the prince! How embarrassifying!

"Of course she cares," Galinda whispered, "she just pretends not to. I feel, awful."

"It's not like it's your fault."

But it was, and Fiyero would not—could not—understand; he was a new Shizer and had not witnessed the girls' legendary feud.

"Excuse me."

Galinda handed the prince her training wand and fluttered across the dance floor to her roommate. "May I cut in?" the blonde asked.

Fiyero had never seen anything like these Shiz girls. Galinda and her roommate kept their distance and danced a slight variation of the green girl's solo. They seemed unperturbed by the stares they received. Some of the green girl's passion seeped into Galinda's graceful movements and, led by an accomplished dancer, the green girl improved. It was a moment he would never forget and one that would warm his heart when he shivered through his loneliest journey: witch hunting along the Yellow Brick Road with companions who misunderstood the girls he loved.


	7. Popular

"Your turn," Galinda said with a yawn, "tell me something excitifying."

The girls had turned their beds so they could curl between their blankets and still chat. Elphaba wore a long, black nightgown; she had draped last night's party dress across her bookshelf and hoped never to use it again. Galinda was swathed in pink, her floofy dress on the floor beside her bed.

"I only have one thing left to tell," Elphaba replied, mimicking Galinda's yawn, "you know that legendary tunnel between here and Maguire? I found it on Lurlinamas Eve. It's magical—I don't think you _could_ find it if you weren't casting spells nearby."

"Oh, Elphie that's—that's _thrillifying!_ Show me, please?"

"I will—but at least wait for tomorrow. It's your turn now."

"Look—" Galinda gestured to the open window, "it is tomorrow, Elphie. And you know, now that we're friends . . . I'm going to make you my new project!"

"You really don't have to do that."

"I know," Galinda trilled, "that's what makes me so _nice_. I'll teach you everything you need to know—I'll make you _popular!_ Life is all about the way you're viewed, you know; you just need lessons. I'll teach you how to talk to boys, flirt and flounce, and how to dress! It's excitifying!"

Elphaba rolled her eyes. "Thanks, I guess. Can we save it for another day, though? I have a lecture in fifteen minutes and I can't miss the first class."

Galinda sighed. "You and your sunrise lectures. Fine, go to class—goodness knows I couldn't!"

* * *

Sometime between midnight and sunrise, Fiyero decided to give Shiz a chance. It would be many years before he understood why—tipsy and alone in his suite—he chose _not _to get expelled. When the sun rose, Fiyero brewed his favorite hangover cure (spicy tea with extra sugar) and sipped the burning liquid until his headache receded to a reasonable level.

* * *

Galinda prepared for the day in a silent dorm. Elphaba had brushed her hair and chosen a plain frock before dashing off to class, leaving her roommate alone. Galinda washed and styled her hair, scrubbed her face, applied apricot moisturizer, and began the long makeup regimen she required of herself.

On the other side of campus, Fiyero followed a similar routine: he showered, styled his hair, and rubbed Vinkan oil on his tribal tattoos. The Arjiki prince finished a half-hour before Galinda because he had no need to apply makeup.

* * *

Elphaba settled in her customary seat five minutes before other students arrived. Dr. Dillamond's lecture was Elphaba's second today and she was already sleepy. She sighed. Maybe being friends with her roommate would be worse than feuding—at least she had slept last semester, when she and Galinda were barely speaking.

Galinda's green roommate sat alone in the front of the lecture room. Fiyero was intrigued. What had the strange girl done to get herself punished with isolation? He plopped into the desk next to hers.

"I'm afraid Galinda didn't introduce us last night," he said, "I'm Fiyero."

"Go away, pretty boy," the green girl hissed, "you'll only destroy your reputation."

"Tell me your name and maybe I'll leave," Fiyero countered.

The girl sighed. "I'm Elphaba."

"That's pretty. You're pretty, actually."

Elphaba glanced at him with wide eyes and bit her lip; a soft, brown blush stained her green cheeks. She shook her head.

"Who dared you to say that?" she asked.

_Sweet Oz,_ Fiyero thought, _she's killing me at my own game. _

"No one; it's true, so I said it. And now that we know each other, I think I'll stay," Fiyero announced, spreading papers across his new desk.

"It's your funeral."

Elphaba refused to stare at the prince while Dr. Dillamond talked, but she barely looked away from her notes. Five minutes with Fiyero had flustered her; Elphaba found it rather unfortunate that this boy—with his chocolate skin and laughing eyes—was attached to her roommate. If he were attached elsewhere, she could have avoided him.

"That was awful!" Fiyero exclaimed when the lecture was over. "I didn't understand a word. Did you?"

Elphaba rolled her eyes. "Life Science is my favorite class," she replied.

"Can you help me?" Fiyero cocked his head and looked down at Elphaba.

"Look, Dr. Dillamond has an open Lab in the afternoons. Three o'clock. I'm the only student registered, but you could join us."

"This room?"

Elphaba nodded.

"I'll be there."

* * *

"Elphie, today is the day," Galinda announced.

"What day?" Elphaba asked, looking up from her Sorcery book.

"The day we make you _popular_, silly.

Galinda was in her element; her green roommate's complexion afforded a makeover challenge like none the blonde had ever experienced. It was positively thrillifying.

"I look like a sick storm cloud," Elphaba complained when Galinda added a little too much purple.

Still, that final glance in the mirror, that final triumph for Galinda, left Elphaba shaken.

"Why, Miss Elphaba—look at you, you're beautiful," Galinda trilled.

"I have to go," Elphaba protested.

"You're welcome," Galinda whispered as her roommate retreated.

* * *

**So . . . I normally like to leave my chapters without author's notes . . . but reviews would be really, really nice. **


	8. As If By Magic

Galinda's friendship and Fiyero's acceptance catapulted Elphaba into the social circles of Shiz; she was still teased and harassed, but she had support from her two closest friends. Within days of Fiyero's arrival, the three became inseparable. They explored the legendary tunnel and found that it was, indeed, magical. There was an inscription on the wall commending the finder for his or her magical abilities. Just beneath the inscription was a small room where the friends stashed chocolate, water, and blankets.

The trio was rarely alone. Galinda—ever the Society girl—was followed by her devotees and Fiyero garnered a few admirers. Where Galinda went, Boq followed. Where Boq went, Nessa followed. Elphaba was the breaking point amongst Galinda and Fiyero's fickle fans; those who refused her friendship found themselves banished. Slowly, a small social circle arose from the ashes of Galinda and Fiyero's overwhelming popularity: Avaric, stubborn and offensive, stayed, as did the indivisible Crope and Tibbett—city boys so used to green they barely noticed Elphaba's skin. ShenShen and Pfannee lurked near the edge of the group, while Boq and Nessa remained rooted at its heart. No one really remembered who named the eight students and their tagalongs, but before Summer they became known as the Charmed Circle.

Fiyero sometimes wondered what glued the Charmed Circle together; it was hardly fame mongering from his or Galinda's names and it was certainly not the company (for the eight-odd students were vastly different and often disagreed). Somehow, some magic kept them together though thick and thin and Fiyero finally decided that magic belonged to Elphaba.

Dr. Dillamond's lab experienced no growing pains when Fiyero joined; Elphaba's friendship endeared the prince and professor to each other and—as with the Charmed Circle—tied the three together. Fiyero found himself happily anticipating their thrice-weekly sessions. If the prince had thought often, he might have realized his enjoyment of the lab centered on Elphaba. As it was, Fiyero did not realize, but he continued to enjoy and attend both the lab and his Life Science lecture.

* * *

Elphaba's semester fell into a smooth rhythm within two weeks. The green girl attended lectures, studied in the library, chatted with Galinda, and devoted her evenings to the Charmed Circle. Besides the forming of friendships, nothing monumental occurred until one of Dr. Dillamond's labs.

The lecture room was still, with the electric stillness that precedes a thunderstorm. Dr. Dillamond stared at the lab table in front of them and Fiyero wrapped his chocolate-colored fingers around Elphaba's green ones.

"Crystallization?" Elphaba's voice was shaky, like the experiments the three had been conducting.

"Dear Oz, I can't believe it, can it be . . . we've really done it!" Dr. Dillamond bleated.

"Looks like you have!" Fiyero laughed.

"But . . . how?" Elphaba murmured.

"It must have been the heat of our hands," Fiyero whispered, squeezing Elphaba's hand.

Elphaba blushed that enticing, brown blush Fiyero adored.

"Children, no matter now. Who could have imagined when this night began, we'd see the success of our plan?" Dr. Dillamond asked.

"As if by magic," Elphaba breathed.

Fiyero twirled Elphaba in a makeshift waltz around the lab table and the two collapsed, laughing, on one of the empty desks; Fiyero wrapped his arm around Elphaba's waist, thankful that—just for this moment—she was relaxed enough to allow it.

"This calls for a celebration," Dr. Dillamond announced.

"Tell me, do Goats drink beer?" Fiyero asked.

"Aren't you the wonder?" Elphaba teased, nearly pushing Fiyero off the desk.

"And aren't you the one?" he breathed, his voice like the wind after a thunderstorm.

In that moment, Fiyero realized he had never wanted to kiss a girl as much as he wanted to kiss Elphaba; only fear of angering her held him back, for he felt he could not bear it if she were angry. He needed her friendship more than her touch.

* * *

The semester stole away—evanescent and slippery—like the water in Suicide Canal. Before Fiyero knew it, he had succeeded in staying at Shiz an entire semester without expulsion. Before Elphaba knew it, she had taken the Charmed Circle to Deki's for a last toast to luck, love, and summer break. Before Galinda knew it, she was kissing Fiyero goodbye and carting five trunks back to the Upper Uplands.

Letters flew through Oz that summer whenever members of the Charmed Circle had time to write—which was rare. Fiyero followed his father, studying the Arjiki ruling traditions; Elphaba wandered the farms around Colwen Grounds and offered magical assistance to the farmers; Galinda fluttered over fashions with her Momsie and missed her roommate's sarcasm.

* * *

**AN: I know this song was replaced with "Something Bad" but I loved the sweet Fiyerba undertones - so I kept it. **

**Thanks to witch-of-the-west9482 for reviewing. **

**Reviews are always appreciated . . . **


	9. Let Me Fall

Summer finally died and autumn leaves drew the Charmed Circle to Shiz for another year; their old haunts welcomed them as the parched earth welcomes rain. Fall cloaked the campus in brilliant colors as the students trudged through its gates.

"Look, Elphie," Galinda said, "you don't match!"

"Is that a compliment, my pretty?" Elphaba asked as she reached out to pluck a golden leaf.

"I say yes," Fiyero replied, "any chance my charming Miss Elphaba registered for Dillamond's open lab?"

"No chance at all," Elphaba said with a laugh, "it was only my favorite class. Why would I subject myself to such unnecessary torture?"

"I'll see you tomorrow, then," Fiyero said, "I'm off to find Avaric. Goodbye, Galinda."

"Good job with the sarcasm," Elphaba called after Fiyero, "we'll make something of you yet."

"Can you believe it's our second year already?" Galinda asked, dabbing tears and mascara from her eyes.

"Can you believe we're still friends _and _roommates?" Elphaba retorted.

* * *

By mid semester, nothing serious had changed for the Charmed Circle. Galinda and Fiyero were still—nominally—a couple and still never seen without Elphaba; Boq was still firmly in Nessa's clutches. Avaric, Crope, and Tibbett were still interested in flirting and dancing above studying, and Elphaba was still helping them finish their homework. The semester fell into an easy routine: lectures, homework, clandestine meetings in the tunnel, coffee at Deki's, evenings on the town.

"Wasn't summer supposed to change us, somehow?" Elphaba asked over whiskey-laced coffee one night.

"'Course not, darling," Fiyero slurred, kissing her cheek, "time can't touch us. We're the Charmed Circle."

Galinda's smile tightened and she wrapped an arm firmly around Fiyero's waist.

"Seems to me we're another year older—well, most of us—and something should be _different_," Elphaba continued.

"Why d' you want it different, anyway?" Crope asked.

"I don't know. It just seems like we aren't _doing_ anything," Elphaba replied, clenching her fingers around her mug.

"You're drunk," Tibbett observed.

"Only a little."

"That's what they all say," Crope retorted, "come on, let's get you home before you do something stupid with all those magical powers of yours."

"Shh! Those are _secret_."

"They're only secret when you're drunk, Elphie," Galinda quipped.

* * *

Galinda was a frilly pink bubble perched on her bed, only her eyes recognizable and visible beneath her fuzzy robe, pink masque, and pink moisturizer. Elphaba was curled on her own bed, a book open on her lap.

"I'm not going tonight," Elphaba reminded her pinkified friend, "so it doesn't matter if you beautify me and I'd really rather _not_ undergo another makeover."

"This is about the hat, isn't it? Sweet Lurline, Elphie—I swear I'll do nothing to embarrass you," Galinda argued.

"Glin, this has nothing to do with the hat. I _like_ that hat. I've worn it since and I'll wear it again. This has everything to do with three simple words: _I'm not going_."

"Do I need Fiyero to hold you down while I beautify you and carry you to the Ozdust afterward?" Galinda asked in her best sugar-and-roses voice.

"You wouldn't dare!" The lanterns flickered as Elphaba glared at her roommate.

"Wouldn't I?" Galinda trilled. She skipped to the door, threw it open, and shrieked "Fiiyeeroo!"

"Okay, fine! I surrender. Just—be nice."

Galinda grinned and said, "See, I _told_ you that you couldn't miss the Lurlinamas Dance."

"I want it on record that I am going under extreme duress."

* * *

**Thanks to witch-of-the-west9482 and deeplyshallow for reviewing.**

**Reviews are fantastic. **


	10. I'm Not That Girl

Elphaba spent Lurlinamas Break alone again, wandering Shiz' frosted brick paths, eating at Deki's, and vanishing into the tunnel for long hours; she found the weeks interminably long and lonely without the Charmed Circle.

"You've gone soft, Elphaba Thropp," she told herself one day, "it's pitiful."

Galinda was less inclined to enjoy the thrills and frills of Lurlinamas at home. She looked with new eyes at the extravagance and, while it was excitifying to disguise the house in Lurlinamas decorations and flirt with Society boys, she missed the blunt honesty of her roommate and the laughter of the Charmed Circle.

"Something's happened to you, Galinda Upland," she told herself one day, "and there's no going back. Face it: you're growing up."

Fiyero was miserable. He was caught in the loneliness of evenings when the Charmed Circle would have begun their night and his parents ended theirs. Fiyero missed Elphaba and Galinda, missed conducting strange experiments with Dr. Dillamond and Elphaba, missed whirling his girls in a complicated dance and hearing Elphaba laugh. It came down to missing Elphaba, though he refused to admit it, even to himself.

"You've gotten deep," he told himself one day, "it's horrificifying. You'd better keep it a secret or they'll laugh you out of existence."

* * *

"We're over halfway through our second year!" Galinda exclaimed three weeks before spring break, "what are we going to _do_?"

"We're going to die of grief because we'll never see each other again." Elphaba said.

"Come on, Elphie," Crope commented.

"We're too young to die," Tibbett added.

Fiyero wrapped one arm around Elphaba's shoulders, the other around Galinda's waist. "We're immortal," he half-whispered, "and invincible—so life after Shiz isn't worth worrying over."

Secretly, Fiyero _was_ worrying about life after Shiz, about Glinda and Elphaba and all the wonderful memories he would leave. Life after Shiz would never be the same. On the outside, he remained brainless and fun loving, as he had always been. It was better. Later, he was thankful for all his practice playing the brainless prince; his ability to play that role saved both Fiyero and the woman he loved.

"We should be more certain of ourselves, know what we want. Life is short." Nessa reprimanded after a moment. Her eyes were on Boq, who was gazing at Galinda in Fiyero's casual embrace. "Really—all of you, you're just dancing through life."

"And you aren't? Admit it, sweetheart," Avaric teased, kissing Nessa's cheek to make her blush, "you're hanging with us so you're like us."

"I am not!" Nessa cried, "Boq, tell them I'm not!"

Boq rolled his eyes at Avaric, "Sadly, Nessa's right," he said, "she _isn't_ like you. She's probably going to govern Munchkinland, unless Elphaba kicks her out—"

"Why in Oz would I do that?" Elphaba retorted. She leaned back against Fiyero's arm, and Fiyero drew her closer. "News flash: I don't _want_ Munchkinland. It's all yours, little sister o' mine."

"Thank you," Nessa replied sweetly. She seemed almost serious—but then, she always seemed almost serious, even when she was joking.

* * *

The weak winter sun was strengthening, there had not been a frost in days, and the brownish grass of Shiz lawns was greenifying.

"Look, Elphie!" Galinda exclaimed one day, "the grass is trying to look like you."

"Or it's trying _not_ to look like Tibbett's hair," Elphaba suggested.

"Must you always look at things in negatives?" Galinda asked, "Maybe the grass is trying to look like you because you are beautifuller than Tibbett's hair."

"More beautiful," Elphaba corrected, "and I'm not. I'm also going to be late for class."

* * *

Elphaba skidded to a stop outside Dr. Dillamond's door and flashed Fiyero a grin.

"Almost late?" she asked.

Fiyero nodded. "You've been Galindafied again," he commented, "You don't have to do that, you know."

Elphaba smiled.

"Class! Take your seats!" Dr. Dillamond ordered, "I have something to say and very little time to say it. My dear students, this is my last day here at Shiz. Animals are no longer permitted to teach."

"What?" Elphaba exclaimed. Fiyero snatched her hand and squeezed it. He told himself it was to reassure both of them. Glancing around, he saw varying shades of shock painted across students' faces. True, Animal oppression had grown during their college years, but none of them had seen this coming.

"Please—Miss Elphaba," Dr. Dillamond continued, "I want to thank you all for sharing with me your, uh, your enthusiasm, your essays—however few—and even, on occasion your lunch."

Madame Morrible waltzed in, followed by three men in menacing jackets.

"Professor, I am truly sorry," the Headmistress gushed.

Elphaba freed her fingers from Fiyero's and stood.

"Madame, you cannot permit this!" Elphaba shouted.

Morrible patted Elphaba's arm and smiled at the outspoken green girl. Fiyero frowned.

"Miss Elphaba, don't worry about me," Dr. Dillamond said, "they can take away my job, but I will continue speaking out."

"Come on, old Goat," a black-coated guard sneered; he and a companion grabbed Dr. Dillamond's arms and dragged him away.

"You are not being told the whole story! Remember that!" Dillamond shouted as the classroom door slammed—erasing an era of Shiz, when Animals were respected professors and ushering in an era of human domination.

"Are we all just going to sit here in _silence_?" Elphaba yelled.

"Miss Elphaba—I'm afraid there is nothing we can do," Morrible consoled, patting Elphaba's arm again.

"But Madame!"

"Please, my dear, take a seat."

One of the intimidating men had remained when Dr. Dillamond was dragged away. He unlocked Dr. Dillamond's storeroom and retrieved an awkward object.

"Hello students!" he began "With each tick of the Time Dragon Clock—in every corner of our great Oz—one hears the silence of progress."

Students smiled and nodded. Elphaba glared. The professor jerked a sheet off the object he'd retrieved, revealing a Lion cub confined behind bars. Fiyero's breath hissed out; in the Vinkus, he had known Lions—dignified, graceful, beautiful creatures. He closed his eyes and reached for Elphaba's hand.

The professor continued: "This is called a cage. You will be seeing more and more of these in the future. This remarkable innovation is actually for the Animals' own good—"

"If it's so good for him, why is he trembling?" Elphaba asked. Fiyero tightened his fingers around hers, a reassurance and a warning.

"He's excited to be here, that's all. Now! As I was saying, one of the benefits of caging a Lion cub this young is that he will never, in fact, learn how to speak."

Elphaba stood and yanked Fiyero to his feet.

"Someone has to _do something_!" she shouted.

The lanterns flickered out. Fiyero, had he not known better, would have sworn he felt a storm in the air. There was precious little light to see by—a green glow emanated from Elphaba and the sun shown dimly through the window shades—but Fiyero noticed the other students moving rhythmically to unheard music. Only Elphaba was as still as he was.

"What's happening?" Fiyero hissed.

"I don't know!" Elphaba answered "I got mad, and . . ." she shrugged.

"Just—don't move! And don't get mad at me."

Fiyero snatched the cage and its covering, suppressing a shudder at the sight of his fellow students dancing an eerie, half-crazed dance to a rhythm Elphaba had set.

"Come on! Come with me!" he ordered Elphaba. She followed. Fiyero hoped getting Elphaba—and the Lion cub—away would release the dancers.

Together, Elphaba and Fiyero dashed through the halls. On a normal day, they might have run to find the Charmed Circle or Galinda. They would have laughed and teased. Today they were silent and tense, serenaded by the mewing Lion cub. Finally, they reached a small grove of trees near the river.

"Careful! Don't shake him!" Elphaba admonished.

"I'm not," Fiyero retorted, but he wrapped his arms more securely around the cage.

"We can't just let him loose anywhere, you know," Elphaba continued, "we've got to find some place safe!"

"I realize that! You—you think I'm really stupid, don't you?" Fiyero asked. _Lurline, _he thought_, let her disagree._ For some reason, her opinion mattered.

"No," she said "not really stupid."

"Why is it that every time you speak you're causing some kind of commotion?" Fiyero, and instantly regretted it as hurt flitted across Elphaba's face.

"I don't cause commotions," she snapped, her voice as bitter as black coffee, "I am one."

"Well—that's for sure," Fiyero stuttered.

"Oh, so you think I should just keep my mouth shut; is that what you're saying?"

"No! What I'm saying is just—" he tried.

"Do you think I want to be this way? Do you think I _want_ to care this much?"

Elphaba whirled so Fiyero would not see her tears, but he heard her sniffle and understood. Fiyero felt shame that nothing he said was ever enough for Elphaba; she was beautiful, lonely, and—his realization washed over him like a warm wave: he _loved_ Elphaba.

"Look, all I wante—"

"Do you ever think how much easier life would be if I didn—"

"Do you ever let anyone else talk?"

"Oh . . . sorry."

Fiyero grinned. Maybe Elphaba would give him a chance to explain himself, or even a chance to reveal his recent realization.

"Look, I just wanted—" he began.

"But can I just say one more thing?" she begged.

Fiyero was angry and wanted to talk but he could not resist the look on Elphaba's face. He looked at the treetops but her pleading eyes had burned themselves into his memory. Finally, he nodded.

"You could have walked away back there," Elphaba whispered.

"Yeah, so?" Fiyero asked.

"So, no matter how shallow and self-absorbed you pretend to be—"

"Excuse me?" he arched his eyebrows "there is no pretense here! I happen to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow."

"No, you're not," Elphaba said "or you wouldn't be so unhappy."

Fiyero stared, openmouthed. He wondered how she could have seen through—through everything.

"Fine," he retorted, "if you don't want my help . . ."

Fiyero started to walk away—something he would later consider among his bravest deeds. He realized, in that moment, that it would have been simple to walk away from Galinda; it frightened him. Galinda was his girlfriend and Fiyero felt like all the bottled emotions he could not express toward Elphaba should have belonged to Galinda. His heart, however, had a mind of its own: it belonged to Elphaba and it refused to let him redirect its affections. It loved Elphaba, not Galinda.

"No! I do, I do!" Elphaba exclaimed.

She snatched Fiyero's hand and he almost melted. He twined his fingers around hers in a way he never had before; earlier, when he had touched her, it had been the touch of friendship. This was the touch of love and Elphaba felt the difference. She jerked away and knelt by the Lion's cage. Fiyero sighed.

"Oh, his heart is pounding," Elphaba whispered, but she really meant _her_ heart was pounding. "I didn't mean to frighten him."

"Well, what did you mean to do?" Fiyero asked "and why was I the only one you didn't do it to?"

Elphaba looked down; how could she explain her out-of-control magic? Fiyero had missed her Orientation explosion and Madame Morrible had taught her to manage herself—mostly—since then. Fiyero would think she was a freak, that she was unworthy of friendship . . . Elphaba forced herself to glance at her handsome companion. She should have been stronger, should not have loved him.

"You're bleeding," Elphaba breathed, grateful for an excuse to avoid Fiyero's question.

"I am?" Fiyero asked.

"He must've scratched you."

"Yeah . . . or maybe he scratched me . . . or something," Fiyero answered.

Elphaba brushed her fingers along the cut, her magic jolting through them like lightning. Fiyero jerked away from her familiar touch, shame burning through him. Galinda could fondle him and he felt nothing, Elphaba's slightest touch sent a thousand contradictory emotions flitting through his heart.

"Um, I'd better get to safety," he muttered, "I mean, the Cub—"

"Of course!"

"—get the Cub to safety!"

Then, Fiyero was gone and the Cub with him. Elphaba sighed.

"Fiyero!" she shouted after him, wanting to apologize, explain, and kiss him. The green girl sank to the ground.

"I can't just go around _kissing_ my best friend's boyfriend . . . so why do I always want to?" Elphaba asked the trees.

The trees were silent. Elphaba rolled her eyes.

"You are _pathetic,_" Elphaba told herself "Look at you! You're not blonde or beautiful—you're green. That boy was born for rich jewels, palaces, and the prettiest girl. He chose Galinda within days of his arrival. He deserves a girl like her . . . and you, my darling, you are not that girl."


	11. One Short Day

The Charmed Circle had known its share of awkward moments, but nothing as strange as Elphaba and Fiyero after Dr. Dillamond's arrest.

"What _has_ gotten into them? They're so upsetified." Galinda asked no one in particular.

"They knew Dillamond pretty well, didn't they?" Crope asked.

"Well, yes, but he was just a professor. Really, you'd think they were bestest friends."

"Elphaba used to spend a lot of time with Dillamond, before you were speaking to her," Tibbett said.

"Well, yes, I suppose she should be upsetified. But really, Fiyero is moodified and distant and—oh! It's awful!"

"Give them time," Avaric suggested.

"And space," Boq added, patting Galinda's shoulder.

Nessa glared.

* * *

All of Galinda's worries, however, were eclipsed when Elphaba burst into their room three days after Dillamond's arrest.

"Galinda, you'll never guess what's happened!"

"You have a boyfriend?" Galinda asked.

"No, my pretty. Nor do I want one. The Wizard wants to meet me!"

"Really? Oooooh, Elphie!"

Galinda grabbed her friend's wrists and spun her in an awkward, impromptu dance. They collapsed on their respective beds, giggling.

"Don't ever do that again," Elphaba gasped.

"I don't think I will."

* * *

The Charmed Circle met to celebrate the evening before Elphaba's departure. Elphaba insisted on remaining sober and Nessa glared at the alcohol and at Boq for drinking. Fiyero nursed a mug of ale; Avaric slammed down several shots before slurring "good luck" to Elphaba and vanishing. Galinda sipped her drink and watched—amused—as Crope and Tibbett waltzed on one of the tables.

* * *

"Oh, Elphaba," Nessa cried, "I'm so proud of you, and I know Father will be, too. We're all proud of you, aren't we?"

Elphaba wiped tears from her eyes; Nessa had never looked at her without shame, and now—perhaps even the Governor would accept his green daughter.

"Will you be alright without me?" Elphaba asked, clutching her sister's hand. Passersby glanced at the odd foursome. Everyday did not bring such odd sights to the train station: a green girl, a tragically beautiful girl confined to a wheelchair, a blonde dressed to the nines, and an unusually tall Munchkin boy—all together and all clearly excitified.

"She'll be _fine_," Galinda assured. She reached out and patted Boq's shoulder. "Biq will keep her company, won't you Biq?"

The Munchkin blushed and drew himself to his full height. "It's Boq! I—I can't do this anymore." He stalked away, not even sparing a glance for his girlfriend.

Passersby paused and stared. It was truly a strange day!

"Boq!" Nessa cried, a moment too late. She tried to wheel her chair around the crowd but Galinda caught its handle before Nessa could knock anyone down.

"Nessa—maybe he just isn't the right one for you," Galinda trilled.

"No, he's the one. It's me that's not right. Don't worry about me, Elphaba. I'll be fine. Safe journey!" Nessa wrenched her chair out of Galinda's grip and scuttled in the direction Boq had gone.

"Nessa, wait!" Elphaba cried.

Passersby gaped. They had never seen the like—the nerve—of these flighty young people. Why, one of them had even _dyed her skin__green__**.**_

"Elphie!" Galinda exclaimed, touching her friend's shoulder, "Let her go, she'll have to manage without you. We all will."

Elphaba rolled her eyes. "You'll barely notice I'm gone. You have Fiyero! Where is he anyway? Not that I expected him to be here, of course. I feel like we're barely friends anymore."

"I don't know him either! Not anymore! He's distant and moodified . . . and he's been thinking, which really worries me! It all started that day Dr. Dillamond was fired! I never knew he cared so much about that old Goat. Oh—wait, there he is! He did come! Fiiyeeeroo!"

Fiyero dashed up to them, knocking a few of the regulars aside. They glared.

"Elphaba, I'm happy for you!" Fiyero announced.

"Yes, we're both so happy!" Galinda added.

"I've been thinking—" Fiyero tried.

"I heard." Only Fiyero noticed that Elphaba's tone was laced with bitterness like tea steeped a moment too long.

"—about the Lion cub, and everything. I think about that day a lot," he continued.

"So do I," Elphaba whispered. She smiled at Fiyero and he thought his heart would stop.

"Oh, me too!" Galinda interjected "I think about it—constantly. Poor Dr. Dillamond! It makes one want to take a stand. I've been thinking of changing my name. Since Dr. Dillamond had his own way of pronouncing my name, in solidarity and to express my outrage, I will henceforward be known no longer as Galinda, but as simply Glinda."

Elphaba elbowed Fiyero, who shifted from one foot to the other.

"Well—that's, that's very admirable of you," Fiyero finally muttered.

"Fiyero," Glinda breathed.

"Elphaba—good luck." Fiyero whirled and vanished into the crowd.

"There—you see!" Glinda sobbed.

Passersby sighed and rolled their eyes. This was just _too much_—silly Shiz students making scenes—it should be illegal.

"Oh, don't cry Galinda."

"It's Glinda now!" the blonde exclaimed with a sniffle, "and it was a stupid idea! I don't even know what made me say it!"

"It doesn't matter what your name is," Elphaba consoled "everyone loves you."

"I don't care! I want him! I don't even think he's perfect anymore and I still want him. This must be what other people feel like."

Passersby nodded in agreement. They certainly did not think the blonde and her green companion were perfect. The day would only be perfect if the two would remain perfectly silent and behave themselves.

Elphaba wrapped her arms around Glinda.

"How do they bear it?" the blonde sobbed.

Passersby wondered how they would bear it if the girls were not _quiet_.

"Come with me," Elphaba offered.

"Where?"

"To the Emerald City!"

"Really?" Glinda asked, "Oooh, I've always wanted to see the Emerald City!"

* * *

Elphaba had never felt more at home; even on the lonely paths of Shiz when normal students were with their families, she was consistently on edge and waiting for the next barbed comment about her skin. In the Emerald City all Elphaba's emotional defenses were unnecessary. True, she was greener than everyone else was—the glasses only darkened her verdigris—but no one seemed to notice.

"It's wonderful," she confided to Glinda "I feel like I belong."

"This will be home someday," Glinda whispered.

"I've never seen so many libraries," Elphaba said, craning her neck to see the top of the tallest one, "or museums."

"It would take _weeks_ to see everything," Glinda complained "and we have one day."

"Now, my pretty, I know it is torturous to pass a palace and not go in, but there are wonders to be seen still."

"Come on," Glinda trilled, "we're going to be late for _Wizomania_."

Elphaba grinned. They had managed to snag tickets to the best show in the Emerald City: Wizomania. Glinda was thrillified and Elphaba was slightly disgusticified at the blind adoration blatantly displayed. She swallowed her distaste only because Wizomania honored the Wonderful Wizard and she would soon work for him. Elphaba understood that honoring the Wizard would be her life. She hoped the glory, the acceptance, would be worth it.

"Thank you for bringing me, Elphie," Glinda whispered halfway through the show.

"Anytime," Elphaba replied, stifling a yawn, "Never thought I'd say this, but it really is better with company."

* * *

**Reviews? There has been a lack of them lately, which is not inspiring me to keep posting this story . . . it's all written, so I can literally update every few hours if you guys are reading it. I will update again soon, but I'd really, really appreciate reviews. **


	12. A Sentimental Man

Elphaba had never been so excited or so nervous. The grand doors of the throne room swung open before her and Glinda clung to her arm. Both girls took a deep breath and stepped across the threshold. A gilt head sat upon the throne and, as they entered, it lifted its flaming eyes to stare at them. Glinda's nails dug into Elphaba's arm.

"I am Oz," the head announced. Elphaba shivered.

"Oh Elphie!" Glinda shrieked. Elphaba bit her lip.

"I am Oz, the great and terrible," the head continued, his voice echoing through the long room. "Who are you and why do you seek me?"

Glinda cowered against the wall; her white dress glowing against the dark stones. She pushed Elphaba forward and the green girl stumbled.

"Say something—say something!" Glinda hissed.

Elphaba glanced at the vaulted ceiling and bit her lip until it bled. She took a deep breath and shouted: "I am Elphaba Thropp, your Terribleness, and this is my—"

"Oh, is that _you_ Elphaba? I didn't realize," the head exclaimed. Somehow, even the friendliest of words echoed like a thousand threats from the mouth of His Terribleness. Elphaba grabbed Glinda's hand as the head clanked into a resting position. The light in the head's eyes went out and small man in a lab coat scurried from behind the throne.

"I hope I didn't startle you," the man said, "it's so hard to make out people's faces when I'm back there. So, let's see—which is which? Elphaba!"

Elphaba stepped toward him; she clasped her hands very tightly so he would not see them shake. She was Miss Elphaba Thropp, powerful Sorceress-to-be, and she should not appear vulnerable.

"A pleasure," Oz cried "Elphaba! And you must be—"

"Glinda—the 'Ga' is silent."

Elphaba strode forward, pressed her hands against the warm metal head, and pursed her lips. It was—unnerving. Surely, a man as powerful as the Wonderful Wizard did not need such props. Surely, he was frightening enough without the use of a gargantuan head to intimidate people. Oz bounced over to Elphaba.

"It's a bit much isn't it?" Oz asked "but people _expect_ this sort of thing . . . and we have to give people what they want!"

Oz bit his lip and watched Elphaba with wide, dark eyes. Glinda noticed that Elphaba and Oz wore nearly identical, nervous expressions. She grinned. This was going to be _wonderful_!

"I'm so happy to meet you," Elphaba whispered.

"Well, now that's good, because that's what I love best," Oz exclaimed, "making people happy! I am a sentimental man and I always longed to be a father."

Elphaba smiled.

"I think everyone deserves the chance to fly," Oz continued, "and helping you with your ascent allows me to feel so parental."

"Oh, Your Ozness! I knew you would help," Elphaba breathed, "please, we're not just here for ourselves, you know. We hear that something bad is happening to the Animals—"

The Wizard laughed and Elphaba grimaced. How could he laugh about something so terrible—how could a good Wizard laugh about the things Dr. Dillamond had said before his arrest?

"Please," Oz huffed "I am the Wizard of Oz. I already know why you've come."

Glinda gasped and Elphaba stared, openmouthed.

"And," Oz continued, "I fully intend to grant your request—though of course, you must prove yourself first!"

"Of course," Glinda giggled, "Elphie—prove yourself, prove yourself!" She shoved her friend toward the Wizard. Elphaba steadied herself against the Oz head.

"But how?" Elphaba asked.

"Madame! The book!" Oz commanded.

"Right away, your Ozness."

"Madame Morrible?" Glinda asked.

"I believe you are well acquainted with my new Press Secretary," Oz said, nodding to Madame Morrible.

"Press Secretary?" Elphaba gasped. This whole meeting was unnerving the green girl. Nothing was as she had expected.

"Yes, dearie," Madame Morrible said, "I have risen up in the world. You'll find that the Wizard is a generous man—if you do something for him, he'll do much for you!"

"What would you like me to do?" Elphaba asked.

"Well," Oz began, "this is my Monkey servant, Chistery. He watches the birds so longingly every morning—"

"His Ozness was thinking, perhaps, a levitation spell," Morrible continued. She flourished a cracked, leather-bound book that glowed in its own light.

"I can't believe it," Glinda gasped, "is that the Grimmerie?"

"Yes," Morrible answered, stroking the book "the ancient book of sorcery and enchantment."

"Can I—touch it?" Glinda asked, reaching forward.

"No!" Morrible hissed. She flounced over to Elphaba and held the book out. "It's a lost language—the lost language of spells."

"Kind of a recipe book for change," Oz offered.

Elphaba sank to her knees and spread the book on the floor.

"Don't be discouraged if you cannot decipherate it, dearie. I myself can only read a spell or two—and that after years and years of constant study."

Morrible circled like a vulture, her keen eyes fixed on the pages of the Grimmerie.

Elphaba stretched and laid her hands against the book's pages. A pleasant, pulsing sensation ran through her fingers. She opened her eyes and stared at the words. They swirled across the pages in fanciful patterns, but as Elphaba stared at them, they arranged themselves into a sensible sort of order. She began to chant as Morrible had taught her.

"Merciful Oz!" Morrible shrieked.

"Oh, Chistery! What an experience you're about to have!"

Elphaba finished chanting. Chistery stumbled, collapsed on the cold stone floor, and screamed.

"What is it?" Elphaba asked, "Is something wrong?"

"It's just the transition," Oz laughed. Chistery shrieked again.

"Chistery, are you alright?" Elphaba asked, "Why can't he answer me?"

Chistery arched his back and released a final, guttural moan. Black wings burst from his shoulders, blood spattered across the floor, and the Monkey staggered around Elphaba to cower in a corner.

"Oh!" Elphaba gasped. She spread her fingers across the Grimmerie as if trying to cover the horrible spell she had cast.

"It did it! It actually worked!" Morrible crowed.

"I have to reverse it!" Elphaba cried.

"You can't," Morrible answered.

"What?"

"You can't reverse the spell! Spells are irreversible. I knew it! I knew she had the power! I told you!"

Oz and Morrible waltzed around the great Oz head.

"You planned all this?" Elphaba hissed.

"For you, too, dearie. You benefit too!"

"And this is only the beginning! Look!" Oz fiddled with something behind his throne; the wall parted in a puzzling, graceful swirl of metal. Behind the iron curtain were monkeys—dozens of winged monkeys. "If this is what you can do your first time, well the sky is the limit!"

"Such wingspan. Won't they make perfect spies?" Morrible cackled.

"Spies?" Elphaba screamed.

"You're right. That is a harsh word. What about scouts?" Oz suggested, "That's what they'll be, really. They'll fly around Oz and report any subversive Animal activity."

"So it's you? You're behind it all?" Elphaba whispered, her eyes filling with unwanted tears.

"Elphaba, when I first got here there was discord and discontent—and where I'm from, everyone knows the best way to bring folks together is to give them a really good enemy."

"You can't read this book at all, can you?" Elphaba asked, clutching the Grimmerie to her chest. "That's why you need an enemy, and spies, and cages! You have no real power."

"Exactly," Oz answered, "And that's why I need you! Don't you see? The world is your oyster now. You have so many opportunities ahead of you, you both do!"

"Oh, thank you, your Ozness," Glinda trilled.

"The two of you, it's time I raised you high. Yes, the time has come for you to have a chance too."

"No!" Elphaba screamed. She ran, still clutching the Grimmerie.

Elphaba ran blindly, past layers of guards—unconsciously moving up through the honeycomb of Emerald Palace. She heard Morrible screaming after her and Glinda trilling:

"Elphie, wait! I'm sorry, your Ozness. I'll fetch her back! Elphaba, stop!"

Elphaba did not stop, even when the echoing Oz voice commanded guards to hunt her.


	13. Defying Gravity

**Thank you to my lovely reviewers (from the last two chapters): _Inkhandedlady 'resuscitated'_ and _witch-of-the-west9482 _- this chapter is for you guys. **

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Elphaba stopped when there was nowhere left to go. She was in an unused part of the palace, clearly not polished for the public's eyes. Dust hung from the rafters like Spanish moss and a mouse scuttled into its hole, frightened by the green woman who had burst into his domain. Before Elphaba could slam the doors, Glinda bounced into the attic; the two girls leaned against the wall and listened—

"The guards are coming," Elphaba gasped, "we have to barricade the door. We'll use this."

The broom Elphaba found looked worse for the wear: its bristles bent and ragged from years of use, its wood cracked in places.

"Why couldn't you have stayed calm for once, instead of flying off the handle?" Glinda shouted, "I hope you're happy now, I hope you're happy how you've hurt your cause forever!"

"I hope you're happy, I hope you're happy too! I hope you're proud how you would grovel in submission to feed your own ambition!"

Glinda stood in the center of the attic, her dress held away from the dust and grime, and glared. Elphaba leaned against the barricaded door, her black clothes blending with the dark stone of the walls, and glared. Their standoff ended when they heard Madame Morrible's voice:

"Citizens of Oz," Morrible announced, "there is an enemy who must be found and captured. Believe nothing she says—she is evil, responsible for the mutilation of these poor, innocent Monkeys. Her green skin is but an outward manifestorium of her twisted nature. This, this distortion, this repulsion, this Wicked WITCH."

Glinda grabbed Elphaba's hand, and the two leaned against the barricaded door.

"Don't be afraid," Glinda whispered.

"I'm not," Elphaba hissed "It's the Wizard who should be afraid. Of me."

"Elphie, listen to me," Glinda tried, "Just say you're sorry. You can still be with the Wizard, what you've worked and waited for. You can have all you ever wanted."

"I know—but I don't want it. No, I can't want it anymore. Something has changed within me. I'm through playing by the rules of someone else's game. It's time to trust my instincts. Some things I cannot change, but until I try I'll never know—so it's time to try defying gravity."

"Can't I make you understand? You're having delusions of grandeur!"

"Too long I've been afraid of losing love I guess I've lost. Well if that's love, it comes at much too high a cost! I'd sooner try defying gravity!"

"Open this door in the name of his Supreme Ozness!"

Elphaba sank to the ground and flipped through the Grimmerie. She began to chant as the guards battered the door.

"What are you doing? Stop it!" Glinda cried, "That book started all this in the first place, that hideous levitation spell! Stop!"

Elphaba took a deep breath and waited for the white-hot pain she expected. Silence reigned supreme in the attic for several moments; the air pulsed with magic. Even the guards' shouts and kicks seemed quieter than while Elphaba was chanting.

"Well . . . where are your wings?" Glinda asked, her voice shaking like the wood of the door beneath the guards battering, "maybe you're not as powerful as you think you are?"

Elphaba's shoulders fell. She had failed. She did not doubt her decision to defy the Wizard, but they would damn her for it and she had no escape.

"Sweet Oz!" Glinda gasped.

Elphaba stared. Hovering just above the floor was the ragged broom Elphaba had used as a barricade.

"I told you, Glinda," she whispered, rising, "Oooh, didn't I tell you?"

The doors quaked beneath the guards' blows and someone shouted.

"Quick! Get on!" Elphaba commanded.

"What?"

"Come with me. Think of what we could do—together! Unlimited, together we're unlimited. Together we'll be the greatest team there's ever been. Glinda, dreams the way we planed them."

"If we work in tandem," Glinda whispered.

"There's no fight we cannot win!" Elphaba finished, "they'll never bring us down! Well, are you coming?"

"Elphie—you're trembling. Here, put this around you," Glinda said, draping a sheer black curtain around her friend's shoulders, "I hope you're happy, now that you're choosing this."

"You, too," Elphaba breathed. Both girls pretended not to notice the other's tears.

With a final groan, the doors shattered inward. Elphaba leapt to the windowsill.

"Elphie! Wait!" Glinda shouted.

"There she is! Don't let her get away!" a guard yelled.

One of the guards snatched Glinda and held her against his chest.

"No, wait—she's—" Glinda gasped, "what are you doing?"

"She had nothing to do with it! I'm the one you want. It's me. It's me!" Elphaba cackled.

The air pulsed with Elphaba's magic and objects glowed in an eerie, turquoise light. Glinda's guard released her.

"Elphie!" Glinda shrieked.

Elphaba stepped off the windowsill and hovered before the guards' astonished gazes.

"I'm defying gravity!" she cried, "So if you care to find me—look to the Western sky—as someone told me lately: everyone deserves the chance to fly."

Elphaba spread her fingers across the broom and drifted away from the window. Citizens of Oz serenaded her escape with their cries:

"Look at her, she's wicked! We've got to bring her down!"

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**Review and I'll post the chapters about what happened during Intermission . . . **


	14. Don't Let Me Down

**Thank you to my wonderful reviewers: _Inkhandedlady 'resuscitated'_ and _witch-of-the-west9482

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Fiyero was half-asleep when he heard his window creak open.

"Meet me in the tunnel, five minutes," Elphaba's voice hissed through his dark room.

"Elphie?"

"Yes. Be quiet! No one knows I'm here."

"Am I dreaming?"

Cold fingers gripped his wrist. "No, now _go_—to the tunnel!"

Fiyero splashed icy water on his face and crept through Maguire to the tunnel entrance. It was strange, for the sake of a dream, but her hands had felt so substantial; he had to know if she was here.

Elphaba sat cross-legged in their hideout, sipping a cup of cocoa. A second cup sat, steaming, in front of her.

"Hey," Fiyero greeted her, his heart thudding.

"You deserve the truth, and I don't know what lies they'll tell you," Elphaba began, "drink your cocoa, and I'll tell you everything I can."

"Oz, Elphie," Fiyero said when she'd finished, "I'm sorry. I—I should've gone with you. Or something."

"There isn't anything you could've done, Fiyero. Don't blame yourself. If anyone is to blame, it's me."

"I could've supported you—escaped with you, when Glinda wouldn't."

"Would you have?"

Fiyero cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.

"How's that for an answer?" he asked.

"You—"

"I love you," he breathed against her lips, "I've known for awhile now, but I haven't known how to—"

Elphaba smothered his explanation with a kiss that burned like fire consuming Fiyero; they sank into the blaze between them. Fiyero's hands tangled in Elphaba's hair, and moved to her buttons but the green girl shook her head between kisses.

"Glinda," she whispered, "you're with Glinda."

"But I love _you_."

"I have to go," Elphaba said, running her fingers through her tangled hair.

"You can't leave me," Fiyero murmured.

Elphaba laughed, "I'm on the run, now, Fiyero. If I'm found here, we both die."

"Don't be found," he suggested.

"Pace back and forth, cooped up in a little tunnel? You should know better than that."

"I do," Fiyero admitted, "but I could hope—look, I'm coming with you."

"You can't. If you disappear now, Glinda will burn for us. Kiss me goodbye, I'm defying gravity."

"I love you, Elphaba," Fiyero whispered.

"I—I love you, Fiyero." Elphaba spoke so quietly Fiyero wondered if he had imagined her words.

* * *

If time had stood still the night the Wicked Witch was born from the Wizard's propaganda, perhaps Elphaba, Fiyero, and Glinda could have unraveled the tangled threads Fate handed them. Perhaps their story would have had a different, happier ending. No one will ever know, because time never stands still. The three never understood the voices in their heads; they never quite straightened out their stories; instead, they ended with a patchwork quilt of memories that never quite fit together.

Glinda returned from the Emerald City, moodified and silent.

Fiyero spent hours alone, drinking hot cocoa and reading books he salvaged from Elphaba's things before Morrible came and took everything away.

Shiz shattered for summer, students spreading across the Ozian provinces and carrying stories of Elphaba—now the Wicked Witch—to their fascinated families.

Elphaba skulked in the Great Gillikin Forest; sometimes, Wicked Witch sightings appeared in the magazines or newspapers. The reports made Elphaba laugh. Fear had turned her into something she could not be: a bent old woman with warts.

"Someday, my pretties," she whispered, "someday—but not yet! For now, I'll fight."

Elphaba was very careful not to hurt anyone. Sometimes she stole eggs from a farmer's coop or bread from a bakery, but never if it meant harming a sentient being. As the summer progressed and Elphaba grew more confident, she attempted Animal rescues. With every success, her boldness increased and with her increased boldness came a darkening reputation.

* * *

Shizers gathered for the fall term, shadowed by fear of the Wicked Witch. The Charmed Circle dissolved and the magic Elphaba had placed on the tunnel decayed; it was harder and harder for less magical students to find the entrance, until only Glinda could do it.

Glinda and Fiyero were still _Ozmopolitan's _Cutest Couple, but their relationship was different—seriousified and secretified. Glinda never talked to the press anymore and journalists resorted to stalking the couple for crumbs of gossip. Even Glinda's friends knew nothing.

Glinda grew distant and moodified as the year progressed; she attended her classes, turned in her homework, giggled with the girls, and drank expensive coffee—but she was empty. Only Elphaba would have seen how deep the emptiness ran and only Fiyero noticed at all. Others assumed she was preoccupied with life after college. No one knew Glinda's future was secure because Morrible had purchased Glinda's silence by promising a position on the Wizard's staff.

Guilt plagued Fiyero for his failure to sever ties with Glinda: he imagined Elphaba on the corner, in Deki's, and at his window. Classes and Glinda were the only incentives that drove him from his room. If Glinda were less persistent, Fiyero was sure he would melt into a miserable heap until Elphaba came to fix him.

Whenever Elphaba could spare a moment, she haunted Shiz and watched the Shizers wandering familiar brick paths. She watched Glinda and Fiyero mourn her and find balance without her; some nights she cried herself to sleep (though she never admitted it because the Wicked Witch of the West could not cry).

* * *

Elphaba was curled on the roof of Menera Hall; if things had been different, she would have graduated from Shiz University with the others. She refused to miss her own graduation ceremony, even if she was no longer a student.

"Don't let me down," Elphaba whispered. She knew the Charmed Circle—fragmented without her—could not hear her words, but it was comforting to speak them.

Fiyero could almost feel Elphaba beside him, almost hear her encouraging words as he fidgeted through speeches; even Morrible had reappeared to advise the graduates. As he accepted his diploma, he imagined Elphaba's congratulatory grin and dreamed of catching her in an impromptu waltz in front of everyone.

Morrible herded Glinda to the podium and congratulated her as "an outstanding student" and the "only student to earn a Sorcery degree". Glinda sobbed. Well-wishers praised her achievement but only the Charmed Circle knew why she cried. Only they remembered the other girl who should have graduated in Sorcery: a green girl with flashing eyes and eerie magic—a friend, a sister, a might-have-been lover, and a Wicked Witch.

* * *

"I miss her, Fiyero," Glinda sighed, "but I'm _doing_ something. You're moodified, you mope and drink and dream. What magic does Elphaba have that would make everything better?"

"I'm doing things," Fiyero retorted, "I'm in your precious Gale Force. Oz, Glinda, I'm _Captain_. What more do you want?"

"I want my boyfriend back," Glinda whispered.

"I'm right here!"

"No, Fiyero, you aren't. Half the time you're hunting Elphie and when you aren't on a mission you disappear for hours on end. I want to have fun—I want things to be the way they were! It's been forever since we've seen her, can't we forget?"

"It's been two years," Fiyero murmured, sipping his brandy, "Anyway, Elphaba isn't forgettable. She changed us irreversibly and no amount of wishing can change us back. You miss the Fiyero from Shiz? I'm not that boy anymore, Glin. This is what you get. If you don't like it, you can walk away right now and no one will blame you—me, least of all."

"That's not what I want," Glinda said, "I want to be with you."

"You're lying—to me, to yourself, to everyone. And no wonder, it's what you do all day for _him_. I leave at dawn. I'll see you when I get back."

Fiyero stalked off to his secret room: a reading room at the top of the library. He had wallpapered it with propaganda posters of Elphaba and contained her old books as well as his newer ones, clothes, brandy—in short, everything he needed to survive Glinda. It was his hideaway, where his girlfriend, the Gale Force, and stalking journalists could never find him.

* * *

Scorching sand struck Elphaba's face, sending shivers through her thin body. The Desert that surrounded Oz was "Impassible" for a reason—it would have been impossible to cross if Elphaba could not fly. Animals were often caught between the Gale Force and the Desert, between imprisonment and dehydration. Elphaba flew across the wilderness as often as she could; she supplied wanders with water, food, and directions. Sometimes she was too late, and then she dug shallow graves watered by tears.

Elphaba knew she needed rest, and finally she turned her broom east—to Colwen Grounds.

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**I'm writing a fun little one-shot, so this is probably it for tonight - but if you review I might change my mind and post the WWOTE chapter. **


	15. The Wicked Witch of the East

**I was about to turn off my computer for the morning, and then I realized I had neglected you - so here it is, the Wicked Witch of the East chapter. This was a strong scene, and unfamiliar to anyone who hasn't seen the musical and/or gotten a bootleg copy of the song, so I didn't change much. I hope you enjoy.  
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Floor-length mirrors were the easiest entrance to a guarded house; Elphaba stepped through her sister's wardrobe and breathed the familiar, incense-laden air of Colwen Grounds. Nessa's chair faced the window and the lovely girl was staring into a hand mirror.

"Ah, it seems the beautiful get more beautiful," Elphaba murmured.

"Oh!" Nessa shrieked, whirling her chair.

"While the green just get greener," Elphaba finished, "I'm sorry—did I scare you? I seem to have that effect on people. It's good to see you."

"What are you doing here?" Nessa spat.

"Well, there's no place like home," Elphaba replied, "I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but—I need father's help. I need him to stand with me."

"That's impossible," Nessa sniffed.

Elphaba sank to her knees and clasped her sister's hand. "No—no it's not, not if you ask him! Nessa, he'll do it for you. You know he will."

"Father is dead."

"What?" Elphaba gasped.

"He's dead. I'm the Governor now," Nessa announced. Elphaba shook her head and snatched the wardrobe handle, pulling herself to her feet. She clasped her green hands in front of her and stared at them.

"Well, what did you expect?" Nessa asked, "After he learned what you'd done, how you'd disgraced us! He died—of shame, embarrassed to death."

"Good," Elphaba whispered, "I'm glad. It's better."

"That's a wicked thing to say!" Nessa shouted.

Elphaba knelt beside her sister's chair again.

"It's true. Now it's just us! You can help me, and together—"

"Oh will you shut up!" Nessa screamed. Elphaba sat back on her heels and stared at her sister.

"I can't help a fugitive, I'm an unelected official!" Nessa continued, "Why should I help you? You fly around Oz trying to rescue Animals you've never even met and never once did you ever think to use your powers to rescue _me_! All of my life I've depended on you, how do you think that feels? All of my life I've depended on you and this hideous chair with wheels, scrounging for scraps of pity to pick up and longing to kick up my heels."

"Nessa—" Elphaba rested her green hands on the red velvet of her sister's chair, "there isn't a spell for everything. This power is mysterious, it's not just like cobbling up a pair of—oh!"

Elphaba snatched the Grimmerie from her satchel and spread it before her. She arched her back and laid her hands against the pages, as she had that fateful day—almost two years ago—in the Wizard's throne room. She began to chant in the now-familiar language of Sorcery.

"What are you doing?" Nessa exclaimed, "What are you doing to me? Oh! My shoes—they feel like they're on fire! What have you done to my shoes?"

Nessa kicked her right leg forward and gasped; for one, agonizing moment she rested both her feet on the ground. Nessa pressed her pale hands against the blood-red armrests of her chair and thrust herself up. She stumbled and collapsed. Elphaba jerked forward and wrapped her arms around her sister's shoulders.

"No!" Nessa shouted, "No, don't help me!"

Elphaba withdrew and Nessa stood with stiff, awkward movements like those of a prisoner left too long in chains.

"Oh, Nessa," Elphaba breathed, "at last! I've done what long ago I should have done. Finally, from these powers something good."

"Finally," Nessa sobbed, "Boq!"

"Boq?" Elphaba asked.

"Boq! Come quickly!"

"Nessa, wait—no one can know I'm here!" Elphaba gasped, tucking the Grimmerie into her satchel. Footsteps approached the door and Elphaba leaned against the wardrobe. She closed her eyes, as if being unable to see would make her invisible.

Nessa sank into her chair just before Boq strode through the door.

"Madame Governor?" the Munchkin asked, but his eyes fell on Elphaba. "You! Stay back!"

"Boq—It's just me," Elphaba whispered, her eyes fluttering open "I'm not going to hurt you."

"You're lying!" Boq shouted, "That's all you ever do—you and your sister! She's as wicked as you!"

"Boq!" Nessa screamed.

"What are you talking about?" Elphaba asked, stepping forward.

"I'm talking about my life," Boq hissed, "what little that's left of it. I'm not free to leave Munchkinland anymore—none of us are. Ever since she took power, she's been stripping us of our rights . . . and we didn't have that many to begin with! And you know why?"

"To keep you here with me," Nessa breathed, "but none of that matters anymore—look!"

Nessa planted her feet on the ground and stumbled toward Boq. He staggered back and steadied himself against Nessa's desk.

"You did this for her?" Boq asked Elphaba.

"For both of us," Elphaba laughed.

"Nessa, this changes everything," Boq exclaimed. He strode forward and wrapped his hands around Nessa's.

"I know."

"Nessa?" Boq tightened his grip on her fingers.

"Yes?"

"Oh, Nessa surely now I'll matter less to you and you won't mind my leaving here tonight."

"Leaving?" Nessa's face crumpled, but Boq barely noticed.

"Yes! That ball that's being staged announcing Glinda is engaged to Fiyero!"

"Glinda?" Nessa sobbed, stumbling into her sister's arms. Elphaba held her and cried with her.

"Yes, Nessa that's right. And I've got to go appeal to her, express the way I feel to her! Nessa, I lost my heart to Glinda the moment I first saw her, you know that."

Nessa snatched the Grimmerie from her sister's satchel and jerked away from Elphaba's restraining hands.

"Lost your heart?" she hissed and strode toward the trembling Munchkin "Well, we'll see about that! Did you think I'd let you leave me here flat?"

"Don't come any closer!" he shrieked.

"You're going to lose your heart to me, I tell you!" Nessa shouted, "if I have to—I have to—Magic Spell you!"

Nessa collapsed on the floor and caressed the Grimmerie open, as she had seen Elphaba do. She began to chant.

"Nessa—don't, it's dangerous!" Elphaba cried, wrapping firm hands around her sister's shoulders.

"What's she doing?" Boq screamed.

"Don't do it!"

Elphaba tried to snatch the Grimmerie from her sister's grasp. Nessa hunched herself over the book and continued chanting.

"I'm warning you!" Boq shouted, "Stop! My heart!" He collapsed into Nessa's empty chair, the silver of his uniform glinting against the crimson cushions.

Elphaba abandoned Nessa to her heartless chanting. "What is it?" she asked, kneeling beside Boq.

"My heart, it feels like it's shrinking," Boq panted.

"Elphaba! Do something!" Nessa screeched, throwing the Grimmerie at her sister.

"I can't! You can't reverse a spell once it's been cast!"

"Well then what do we do?" Nessa sobbed, "This is all your fault!"

Elphaba shoved Boq's chair into Nessa's expansive closet.

"None of this would have happened if you hadn't shown me that horrendible book!

"We have to find another spell," Elphaba murmured, flipping through the Grimmerie, "it's the only thing that might work." She stepped into the closet and closed the door.

"Save him, please, just save him," Nessa sobbed, "my poor Boq, my sweet, my brave him. Don't leave me till my sorry life has ceased, alone and loveless here with just the girl in the mirror—just her and me: the Wicked Witch of the East! We deserve each other!"

Elphaba's chanting filled the room as Nessa fell to her knees. Finally, the strange sounds were silent and Elphaba stepped out of the closet.

"He's asleep," she whispered.

"What about his heart?" Nessa asked, wiping tears from her eyes.

"It's alright," Elphaba said, her voice like black coffee brewed to long, "he won't need one now. I have to go to the Emerald City. What happened to those Monkeys is my fault—I have to set them free."

"You're not going back there to save some Monkeys," Nessa accused, "You're going to find Fiyero, aren't you? But it's too late."

Elphaba buttoned her satchel and turned to face her sister's mirror.

"Elphaba, please!"

"Nessa, I've done all I could for you and it hasn't been enough—nothing ever will be."

"Elphaba—"

The green girl melted into mist and light, leaving Nessa staring at the mirror.

* * *

"I'm all alone and loveless here," Nessa whispered, fighting back tears, "with just the girl in the mirror."

"What happened?" Boq's voice called from the closet.

"Nothing!" Nessa gasped, "Oh Boq! You just—you fell asleep." She smoothed her hair and turned to face her beloved Boq.

He clanked when he walked. Nessa saw him and screamed.

"What happened? What's wrong?" Boq shouted.

"It wasn't me!" Nessa cried, "It was her! I tried to stop her. Boq, please! It was Elphaba, Boq! It was Elphaba!"

Boq clanked away from Colwen Grounds, another of the Charmed Circle forever changed by Elphaba's magic. Nessa knelt in a crumpled heap beside her mirror and sobbed. "We deserve each other," she told her tearstained reflection.

* * *


	16. Thank Goodness

**Sorry for the wait - wasn't letting me upload documents; I'm not sure if it was the website or my internet server, but the problem is fixed now. **

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* * *

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Fiyero groaned. He had been home for less than three hours and Glinda informed him there was a ball he needed to attend. What was it with that girl and balls? She was always staging them within days—or hours—of his return. It seemed like a cleverly disguised ploy to keep him home between bouts of Elphaba hunting; it probably was. Fiyero was always tired and grumpy at Glinda's balls. He was surprised the people liked him as much as they did—but Glinda had a good teacher and was excellent at fueling the propaganda machine. Glinda the Good, they called her, as if exploiting the tangible differences between Glinda and Elphaba would make Elphaba more hated and feared.

Fiyero was several minutes late when he marched onto the dais. Glinda took his hand and puckered her lips for a kiss—for the cameras, of course. Fiyero obliged because he hated handling an angry Glinda when he destroyed her photo-ops. Glinda twined her gloved fingers with his bare ones and turned to the crowd:

"Fellow Ozians," Glinda began, "as terrifying as terror is, let us put aside our panic for this one day and celebrate! What a celebration we'll have today—let's have a celebration the Glinda way!"

A great cheer rose from the crowd and Fiyero noticed a few couples dancing. He tightened his fingers around Glinda's, wishing she were taller and green.

"Finally a day that's totally Wicked Witch free!" Morrible crowed.

The crowd roared. Fiyero grimaced.

"And thank goodness for you, Glinda," Morrible continued, "and for your handsome swain, our Captain of the Guard! You've been on the forefront of the hunt for the Wicked Witch, haven't you Captain?"

Fiyero knew what Morrible wanted, but he was thoroughly sick of giving it to her. "Well," he said, "I don't think of her as a Wicked Witch—"

"So, Captain! How does it feel?" Morrible cried with a forced laugh.

"Frustrating," Fiyero answered honestly, "but I became Captain of the Guard to find her and I will keep searching—"

"No!" Morrible exclaimed, "Being _engaged_!"

"This is an engagement party?" Fiyero asked, turning to Ginda.

"Surprised?" she trilled.

"Yes."

"Well—good. We hoped you'd be, the Wizard and I. We couldn't be happier, right dear? Couldn't be happier right here, look what we've got: a fairytale plot, our very own happy ending where we couldn't be happier, true dear? Couldn't be happier, and we're happy to share our ending vicariously with all of you. He couldn't look handsomer, I couldn't feel humbler, we couldn't be happier—because happy is what happens when all your dreams come true."

Fiyero sighed. Maybe this was all Glinda dreamed of, but he dreamed of a tall girl with raven hair and green skin—a girl who had given him her universe and flipped his upside down. Fiyero had never really thought of marrying Glinda. Now, his choice was taken away—like all Elphaba's choices had been.

"Glinda, dear, we are happy _for_ you," Morrible announced, "As Press Secretary I've striven to ensure that all Oz knows the story of your braverism. How vividly I remember: the day you both were summoned to an audience with Oz, and though he would not tell you why initially, he decreed you'd hence be known as Glinda the Good—officially!"

"That's not how you described it to me," Fiyero murmured through clenched teeth and a fake smile.

"Well, no—not exactly—but we'll talk about it later," Glinda whispered.

"Then, with a jealous squeal," Morrible continued, "the Wicked Witch burst from concealment, where she had been lurking surreptitially."

Chaos erupted in the crowd at Morrible's—second—mention of their favorite enemy:

"I hear she has an extra eye that always remains open!" someone shouted.

"I hear she can shed her skin as easily as a snake!" another hissed.

"I hear some rebel Animals are giving her food and shelter!"

Fiyero filed that comment for further inspection when he escaped this damn celebration.

"I hear her soul is so unclean, pure water can melt her!" a man added.

"Please, somebody go and _melt_ her," a few people chanted.

"What?" Fiyero shouted. It was all _too much_. "Did you hear that? Water will melt her!

"Shh, dearest!" Glinda hissed.

"People are so empty-headed these days, they will believe anything!" Fiyero finished.

Glinda turned to the crowd. "Excuse us just a clock-tick!"

Angry and glittering, Glinda herded Fiyero to the side of their dais.

"I can't just stand here, grinning, pretending to go along with all this!" he shouted.

"Do you think I _like_ hearing them say those awful things about her?" Glinda asked, "I hate it!"

"Then—what are we doing here?" Fiyero asked, clasping Glinda's hands, "Let's go! Let's get out of here!"

"I can't!" Glinda cried, "I can't leave now. Not when people are looking to me to raise their spirits."

"You can't leave because you can't resist this," Fiyero accused, "this sparkle and fame."

"Well maybe I can't," Glinda retorted, "Is that so wrong? Who could?"

"You know who could—and who has!"

"Fiyero, I miss her too. But we can't just stop living. No one has searched harder for her than you, don't you see she doesn't want to be found? You've got to face it."

"You're right," Fiyero muttered; his heart melted into a puddle of green misery, missing the girl he loved—the girl who was running from him.

Glinda stared.

"Look," Fiyero said, "if it'll make you happy, of course I'll marry you."

"But it will make you happy too, right?" Glinda asked, reaching up to caress his face.

"You know me," Fiyero replied with a patented grin, "I'm always happy."

He whirled and stepped off the dais. He needed to settle this, to sew his heart back together so he could smile for Glinda. She was his fiancée now and she deserved that much, at least: pretense, yes, but necessary. She deserved more than watching him mourn a girl he had lost a long time ago.

"Fiyero!" Glinda cried, but she let him go and returned to her precious crowd. "Thanks plenty dearest! He's gone to fetch me refreshment," she told them with a tight smile. "He's so thoughtful that way—that's why I couldn't be happier."

Glinda smiled and accepted the congratulations and toasts while she waited for Fiyero. When he was gone too long, she pasted a grin on her face and pretended her happiness perfect—though it was the tiniest bit unlike she had anticipated.

"I couldn't be happier," she repeated, until she thought her smile would crack, "I simply couldn't be happier."

Except, Glinda had discovered that nothing was simple: every dream she realized cost her in tears and heartache over little things she lost along the way. She found herself wishing she had climbed on Elphie's broom—because when she chose to stay behind, she thought Elphie would come back. Glinda had crossed a bridge in that attic, but she had been too preoccupied to notice. Now, there was no going back and that one choice was tearing her life apart.

"Happy is what happens when your dreams come true," Glinda told one well-wisher—except, that was a little untrue: her dreams were within her grasp, and she was a little bit _un_happy. "I couldn't be happier," she added for good measure. Maybe saying it would make it true.


	17. Wonderful

There were no mirrors in the Wizard's throne room, but Elphaba found the window unguarded. She laid a hand across the latch and winced at the icy burn of Morrible's magic; Elphaba muttered a counter spell and felt the fire of her own magic dancing across her skin. She swung into the throne room and landed, silently, on the balls of her feet.

Elphaba propped her broom against the Oz head, summoned a ball of magical light, and hunted for the lever she had seen Oz use.

"I knew you'd be back," a familiar voice announced.

Elphaba whirled. The Wizard stood beside his mechanical head, one hand resting on her broom. He held a lantern in one hand, a warmer light than the magical one Elphaba cradled.

"Hear me out," Oz asked, "I never meant to harm you—"

"Well, you have. You have harmed me."

"I know that, and I regret it—Elphaba."

"Stay where you are! I am setting those Monkeys free. Don't try to interfere or call the guards or—"

"I'm not calling anyone," Oz replied, "the truth is, I'm glad to—to see you again. It gets pretty lonely for me around here. I know you must get lonely, too . . ."

"You don't know the first thing about me!" Elphaba hissed.

"Oh, but I do," Oz said, "I—I do know you, I can't explain it exactly but, ah . . . you know what I mean? Elphaba, you've been so strong through all of this. Aren't you tired of being the strong one? Wouldn't you like someone to take care of you? Please can't we start again?"

"Don't you think I wish I could? I would give _anything_ to turn back the clock—to go back to that time when I actually believed that you were wonderful: the Wonderful Wizard of Oz. No one believed in you more than I did," Elphaba bit her lip and laid a hand against the Oz head.

"My dear child, do you think I planned all this? I was merely blown here by the winds of chance. I wasn't anyone great—and then I was here—respected. Does it surprise you I got hooked, and what can I say? I got carried away. 'Wonderful'—they called me 'wonderful'—so I said 'wonderful? If you insist, I will be wonderful' and they said 'wonderful'—believe me, it's hard to resist . . . see, I never had a family of my own. I was always traveling; I guess I just wanted to give the citizens of Oz everything."

"So you lied to them?" Elphaba asked. This man was infuriating.

"Only verbally," the Wizard answered with a shrug, "but they were lies they wanted to hear. Elphaba, where I'm from we believe all sorts of things that aren't true. We call it history!"

Elphaba glared as the excuses kept coming.

"They called me _'wonderful'_ so I am, in fact it's so much who I am it's part of my name!" the Wizard exclaimed, "and with my help, you can be the same—Elphaba, the most celebrated are the rehabilitated. There'll be such a whoopty-doo. A celebration throughout Oz that's all to do with you: they'll call you 'wonderful'—"

"That does sound wonderful," Elphaba conceded. She had spoken with weary Animals and a few leaderless rebels, but she had not talked to an unafraid human since that last night with Fiyero. She sighed. It would be nice to eat and bathe, to curl up in a library, to be revered.

"Trust me, it's fine when you are wonderful. It will be wonderful!"

"I could be . . . wonderful!" Elphaba tried to find the freedom fighter in her heart, but she wanted this—had always wanted this. _I was wrong,_ she thought, _I _can_ still want this—and maybe I can still have it. It's not too late._

The Wizard caught Elphaba's hands and whirled her in an impromptu waltz that threw her back to her Shiz days, to the innocence of achieving crystallization with a Goat professor and handsome prince. She laughed.

Elphaba broke from the dance and braced herself against the Oz head.

"Alright!" she cried, "I'll accept your proposition—"

"Wonderful!" Oz exclaimed.

"—on one condition!" Elphaba finished.

"Yes?"

"You set those Monkeys free!"

"Done!" Oz reached around Elphaba and jerked a tiny lever. Elphaba watched the iron curtain swirl away and remembered those first, disillusioned moments when she saw what her magic had done—but she pushed the thoughts away. This was her life now. Heroic last stands and freedom fighting were simply not practical when she could be with the Wizard and Glinda and—and Fiyero.

Oz pressed a button behind his throne and the cage rose, releasing dozens of winged Monkeys. Elphaba extinguished her magical light—it was unneeded now, with the light emanating from the Wizard's cage. The Monkeys waltzed around Elphaba.

"Fly! You're free!" she shouted. Freeing the Monkeys was enough payment for selling her soul to the Wizard; he had been right. Elphaba was sick of being the strong one. "Fly!"

Elphaba glanced into the cage and saw one Monkey huddled beneath a blanket.

"You—under the blanket—get up!" she cried, twirling over to the cowering Monkey.

"No!" Oz screamed.

Elphaba threw the blanket back and felt the fire of her joy die, as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over it. There, curled in the corner of a gargantuan cage, was Dr. Dillamond.

"No," Elphaba gasped, "it can't be! Dr. Dillamond?" She touched the Goat's thin shoulders.

"We simply couldn't let him continue speaking out," Oz explained.

"Dr. Dillamond, are you alright?" Elphaba asked, "Don't be afraid. It's me—Elphaba. Don't you, don't you remember me?"

Dr. Dillamond bleated and Elphaba stared at him.

"You do speak?" she whispered.

Elphaba's only answer was another bleat. She wrapped her arms around Dr. Dillamond and glared at the Wizard.

"You and I have nothing in common," she hissed, snatching her broom "I am nothing like you and I never will be. I will fight you until the day I die!"

"GUARDS!" The Oz head cried.

"Dr. Dillamond, get down!" Elphaba knelt beside her old professor. It was still over—she would die tonight, but she would die _fighting_. It would be enough.

Boots clattered on the stone, and then a voice that had haunted Elphaba's dreams: "Is everything alright, your Ozness?"

"Fiyero!" she gasped.

He stared at her, his gun shaking in his hands. _Sweet Lurline, he's frightened,_ Elphaba thought, _I didn't mean to frighten him. _

"I don't believe it," he whispered, backing up a step.

"Oh Fiyero, thank Oz—"

"Silence, Witch!" Fiyero shouted.

"There's a Goat on the lam, Sir!"

"Never mind all that, just—just fetch me some water," Fiyero replied, glancing between the guard and Elphaba.

"Water, Sir?" the guard asked, staring at his Captain.

"You heard me! As much as you can carry."

Elphaba sighed. Fiyero would be so disappointed when she stayed standing, unmelted. He would have to handle her, then—and both knew that would be ugly.

"Yes, Sir!" the guards cried and scurried off to do their Captain's bidding.

"Fiyero—not you, too," Elphaba murmured.

"I said _silence_," Fiyero yelled. He backed around the throne, his gun trained on Elphaba until she was out of sight. It was hard to _let _her out of sight after two torturous years never seeing her, but Fiyero knew it was necessary: there were some ears that would hear all and some powers that could not be defied if defiant parties intended to leave the Emerald City alive. Two years ago, Elphaba had risked it all and won; it would not do to trust Fate so far again. Fiyero dug his fingers into the Wizard's hair and dragged him from behind his metal head. The Wizard whimpered.

"Don't make a sound, your Ozness," Fiyero threatened, pointing his gun at the cowering Wizard, "Not unless you want all your guests to know the truth about the Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Elphaba—go, get out of here!"

Fiyero had never spoken harder words, but he had to say them: Elphaba was not safe, and his heart mattered less than her safety.

"Oh, Fiyero—you, you frightened me," Elphaba whispered, "I thought you might've changed."

"I have changed—" Fiyero replied.

"What's going on?" a familiar voice trilled. Fiyero groaned inwardly. Now was decidedly _not_ an opportune moment.

"Elphie!" Glinda, a bubble of blonde curls and blue silk, hurled herself into Elphaba's arms, "Oh, thank Oz you're alive! You shouldn't have come, if anyone discoverates you . . ."

"Glinda, you'd better go," Fiyero ordered.

"Fiyero?" Glinda gasped, "What are you do—"

"Please, just go back to the ball."

Glinda bounced to Fiyero and nodded to the Wizard. Fiyero inched closer to Elphaba, leaving his fiancée to handle the trembling man he had cornered against the throne.

"Your Ozness, he means no disrespecation. Please understand, we all went to school together—" Glinda apologized.

_Well, I do mean disrespectation_, Fiyero thought darkly. It was an unwise thing to say, so he settled on something slightly more acceptable: "Elphaba—"

"Fiyero! Have you misplaced your mind?" Glinda hissed, "What are you doing?"

_What long ago I should have done,_ Fiyero thought, but he caught Elphaba's gaze and whispered, "I'm going with her."

"What?" Glinda asked. She crumpled to her knees beside the Wizard.

"What?" Elphaba gasped. Fiyero thought he saw a flicker of a smile on his Elphaba's face before Glinda's voice interrupted their stare.

"What are you saying?" Glinda asked, wiping tears and mascara from her pale cheeks, "All this time, the two of you—behind my back?"

"No, it wasn't like that!" Elphaba cried, starting forward as if to comfort her friend.

"Well, it was," Fiyero retorted, "but it wasn't. Let's go! Let's go!"

Fiyero snatched Elphaba's hand and they ran as they had never run before, their boots echoing on the stones like the marching of a thousand guards.

"Fine! Go! You deserve each other!" Glinda screamed. She buried her face in her hands; the tears and mascara on her fingers smudged her forehead.

"Here, have a swig of this," the Wizard offered, holding out a green glass bottle, "it dulls the pain."

"No, thank you," Glinda whispered.

"Is it true? Is it true?" Madame Morrible's voice echoed into the throne room. "Your betrothed has brought her into custody?"

Glinda stood and threw back her head, her blue eyes like frozen fire: proud and cold.

"I'm afraid our Captain of the Guard had other plans," the Wizard announced, rising from his uncomfortable seat at the foot of his throne.

"What? She's not been captured?" Morrible gasped.

"Quite the opposite," Oz answered, "and considering how well she eluded us last time—"

"We must smoke her out—force her to show herself!" Morrible cried. She buried her fingers in her hair.

"But how?" Oz asked.

"Her sister," Glinda murmured.

"What was that? What did you say?" Morrible hissed.

"Use her sister," Glinda suggested, "spread a rumor, make her think her sister is in trouble. She'll fly to her side and you will have her."

"Oh, now that's good," Oz crowed.

"Now, if your Ozness will excuse me," Glinda breathed, fighting back tears "I have a slight headache. I think I'll lie down."

Glinda never knew exactly what transpired after she left, but she knew it changed her forever; within weeks, the blonde would find herself carrying the burden of three deaths on her slender shoulders.


	18. I'm Not That Girl Reprise

"Don't wish," Glinda whispered as she sipped a cup of chamomile tea and wished Elphaba's return had come after she and Fiyero were married, "don't start—wishing only wounds the heart."

Glinda had known Fiyero felt less for her each day, but she had pretended he was frightened of commitment or too obsessed with finding Elphaba to attend to his girlfriend.

"There's a girl I know, he loves her so. I'm not that girl," Glinda told her tea as she flavored it with her tears.


	19. As Long As You're Mine

Fiyero led Elphaba through winding corridors and secret doors, to the opulent room he had received with his promotion to Captain of the Guard.

"Three minutes," he told her, "I need a few things. Take anything you'd like—sorry there aren't many books. I keep those in the library."

"I should hope so," Elphaba retorted, "then others can enjoy them."

"I read," Fiyero informed her as he rolled a few shirts into his Gale Force satchel, "I read everything you left behind—except some of your spell books, since I can't work magic."

"You've gone and gotten smart on me," Elphaba quipped, "I'm sorry I missed it."

Fiyero slung his satchel over his shoulder and laid a hand on Elphaba's broom. "Does this thing carry two?"

"I never tried," Elphaba admitted, "but I guess we'll find out."

"Encouraging."

Fiyero leaned his head against Elphaba's shoulder as the broom whipped past tree branches and twigs, down into the Great Gillikin Forest.

"Funny," he said when they dismounted, "we searched here a hundred times and never found you."

"I found you," Elphaba said, "You were the best entertainment I got—some of your men were pretty unobservant. I thought you had me a few months ago, but—"

"Sweet Oz, Elphaba. I wanted to find you so badly—to know that you were safe and alive and see if you still loved me. I love you."

"I love you, too," Elphaba whispered. She spread her cloak on the ground. "Sorry—this is how I sleep. It's not much."

Fiyero wrapped his arms around her and clutched her against his chest. "I thought I'd never see you again," he murmured against her hair.

Elphaba squirmed until Fiyero loosened his hug. She twined her fingers behind his neck and pressed her lips against his.

Fiyero's breath hitched in his throat when Elphaba kissed him, igniting the magical flame only she could cause to burn inside his heart. He returned her kiss.

"Kiss me too fiercely," she whispered when they broke apart, "hold me too tightly. I need help believing . . ."

Fiyero knelt on Elphaba's cloak, drawing her down with him.

"My wildest dreaming," the green girl breathed, "could not perceive lying beside you, with you _wanting_ me. Just for this moment—"

"As long as you're mine, it doesn't matter what the future holds," Fiyero murmured, "Lurlina, Elphie, I thought I'd never find you—I missed you." He kissed her. "Somehow, I've fallen under your spell—"

Elphaba shook her head, "No spells," she muttered.

Fiyero laughed, "I meant that as a good thing—better than my life before you, you know?"

Elphaba laughed—a truly happy laugh, more beautiful than anything Fiyero had ever heard.

As the moon rose over the forest, Fiyero and Elphaba abandoned themselves to the blaze between them; later, they rested beneath the glory of sunrise—their first, shared sunrise.

They bathed in a nearby river and dressed while the newborn sun smiled on them.

"I love you," Elphaba murmured.

"I love you."

Elphaba laughed exultantly and pressed her lips to Fiyero's.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's just, for the first time, I feel—wicked," she cried and kissed him again. All too soon, she melted away from his embrace and stared at her hands. "I only wish . . ." she whispered.

Fiyero wrapped his hands around Elphaba's; their fingers fitted perfectly together and Fiyero noticed their skin mingled like chocolate and mint.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I wish I could be beautiful, for you," she answered.

"Elphaba—"

"No—don't tell me that I am. You don't have to lie to me."

"It's not lying," he replied fiercely, "it is looking at things another way. Look, you and Glinda will make up and someday everything will be the way it's supposed—"

"Shh—do you hear that? It sounds like someone in pain!"

"It's just the wind," Fiyero answered, tightening his fingers around Elphaba's.

"My sister's in danger!" Elphaba gasped.

"How do you know?"

"I don't know, I just do! Oh!" she leapt to her feet, feral and graceful. For the first time, Fiyero saw the Wicked Witch others feared—and he loved her still.

"Elphaba—what is it? What's wrong?" Fiyero cried, rising and wrapping his arms around Elphaba's shoulders.

"What was _that_? Did you see it?"

"No, what did you see?"

"It doesn't make any sense. It's a house, but it's flying through the sky! I have to go to Nessa!" Elphaba shrieked.

"I'll go with you," Fiyero offered, kissing Elphaba's cheek.

"No, you mustn't! It's too dangerous!"

"Uh," Fiyero handed Elphaba her satchel, "Alright, listen to me, listen: my family has a castle in Kiamo Ko. No one's ever there except the sentries, we've never lived in it,"

"Well, where do you live?" Elphaba interjected.

"The other castle."

"Oh, of course." She rolled her eyes.

"It's a perfect hiding place: tunnels, secret passageways—you'll be safe there," Fiyero finished, kissing her lightly.

"We will see each other again, won't we?" Elphaba asked, tangling her fingers in Fiyero's hair.

"Elphaba, we are going to be together _always. _You can see houses flying through the sky, can't you see that?"

Fiyero kissed Elphaba goodbye and watched her go; when she was out of sight, he gathered his things and trudged in the direction she had flown. It was the least he could do.

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**Review? I know it's just more ALAYM fluffle, but a review would make me happy . . . **


	20. Brave

"It's my time to be brave," Elphaba whispered as she glanced back at Fiyero, standing lonely where she had abandoned him. Nessa needed her and, right now, making old wrongs right was more important than basking in Fiyero's love. If he was crazy enough to love her now, he was crazy enough to love her tomorrow.

* * *

"You just take that one road the whole time!" Glinda called after the little girl—Dorothy, wasn't it?—and her adorable dog. "Oh dear, I hope they don't get lost. I'm so bad at giving directions!"

Finally alone, Glinda circled the remains of the farmhouse and fought the prickling, treacherous tears that threatened to spoil her makeup. It was unfair! Glinda barely admitted it to herself, but this was her fault: Morrible and Oz had not thought of using Nessa until Glinda, starved for revenge, had mentioned it. Now, Nessa was dead.

Glinda plucked a purple flower from a nearby bush and laid it next to—to the house, and Nessa. She knelt and let one sob escape before sniffing back her tears. "Oh, Nessa," she murmured.

"What a touching display of grief," Elphaba sneered.

"I don't think we have anything further to say to one another," Glinda sniffed.

"I wanted something to remember her by," Elphaba said through clenched teeth, "and all that was left of her were those shoes—and now that wretched little farm girl has walked off with them!"

Elphaba circled the farmhouse and glared at Glinda.

"I would appreciate some time alone, to say goodbye to my _sister_," she hissed.

Glinda settled at the edge of a cornfield, a miserable bubble of silk, pearls, and makeup. Elphaba sank to her knees beside her sister's remains.

"Oh, Nessa please, please forgive me," she sobbed.

Glinda sighed. She was hurt, and angry, but she found herself walking toward Elphaba; it seemed Glinda the Good could not remain angry with her best friend. Glinda knelt beside the sobbing green girl and patted her shoulder.

"Elphie," she whispered, "It's dreadful—it is—to have a house fall on you, but accidents will happen."

Elphaba leapt to her feet. "You call this an accident?" she snarled.

"Maybe not an accident," Glinda conceded, backing away from her angry friend.

"What do you call it?" Elphaba shouted, closing the distance between them.

"A regime change, brought by a bizarre and unexpected twister of Fate," Glinda suggested.

"So you think cyclones just appear, out of the blue?"

"I don't know," Glinda admitted, "I never saw—"

"No, of course you never! You just go around telling everyone how wonderful everything is!"

"Well, I'm a public figure now, people expect me to—"

"To lie?" Elphaba hissed.

"To be _encouraging_!" Glinda growled. "What exactly have you been doing, besides flying around on that filthy old thing?"

"Well excuse me, we can't all come and go by bubble," Elphaba retorted, "whose invention was that? The Wizard's? Of course, even if it wasn't, I'm sure he'd still take credit for it!" Elphaba stalked toward the cornfield.

"Yes, well," Glinda sniffed, "a lot of us are taking things that don't belong to us. Aren't we?"

Elphaba whirled and glared, "Now just wait a clock-tick," she hissed through clenched teeth, "I know it may be difficult for that blissful blonde brain of yours to comprehend that someone like him could actually choose someone like me, but it's happened! It's real! And you can wave that ridiculous wand all you want—you can't change it! He never belonged to you. He doesn't love you and he never did! He loves _me_!"

Glinda slapped Elphaba—the girl she had once been too repulsed to touch, the girl who had become her best friend, the girl who had _stolen her fiancé_.

Elphaba threw back her head and cackled. "Feel better now?" she asked.

"Yes, I do," Glinda trilled.

"Good," Elphaba replied and returned the slap, "So do I!"

Glinda staggered back and raised one hand to her cheek. She extended her wand and sparks flew from its silver tip. Elphaba raised her broom defensively. The girls stared at each other and circled slowly; Glinda chose each step carefully, Elphaba moved with the feral grace of a wild creature. Wand and broom met in a shower of sparks.

"Attention! In the name of the Wizard!"

Elphaba dropped her broom and stared at Glinda. Soldiers poured into the clearing like molasses on a hot day.

"Stop! Let me go!" Elphaba screamed. Her hat fell to the ground.

"They're not listening," Glinda observed. Elphaba bit one of the soldiers.

"Sorry it took so long to get here, Miss," one of the soldiers apologized, doffing his cap at Glinda.

"What? What do you mean?" Glinda trilled. She retrieved Elphaba's hat and wrung it in her hands.

"I can't believe you would sink this low," Elphaba hissed, "to use my sister's death as a trap to capture me!"

"I never meant for that to happen!" Glinda shrieked.

Elphaba kicked a guard in the shin. Fiyero leapt out of the cornfield brandishing a rifle.

"Let the green girl go!" he shouted.

"Fiyero, how in Oz—" Elphaba began.

"I said, let her go!" Fiyero glared at the soldiers holding Elphaba, "Or explain to all Oz how the Wizard's guards watched while Glinda the Good was slain," he continued, turning his rifle toward Glinda.

"Fiyero, no," she pleaded.

"Let her go," Fiyero ordered.

The guards released Elphaba and she stumbled forward. Fiyero snatched her broom and tossed it into her ready hands.

"Elphaba—go!" Fiyero commanded, "now!"

"No, not without you," Elphaba insisted.

"Fiyero, please," Glinda tried.

"Hush, now!" Fiyero roared, "Go!"

Elphaba sucked in a deep breath and, trembling, mounted her broom.

"Wait!" Glinda cried, and tossed Elphaba her trademark hat. Elphaba nodded her thanks and rose into the sky.

The soldiers surrounded Fiyero, guns trained on him. He dropped his rifle.

"Seize him!" a guard ordered.

"No, wait!" Glinda cried, "What are you doing? Stop it! In the name of Goodness, stop! Don't you see? He was never going to harm me! He—he loves her."

"I'm so sorry, Glinda," Fiyero murmured.

"Take him out to that field there," one of the guards commanded. The others dragged Fiyero toward the tall cornstalks.

"No! Wait!" Glinda shrieked.

"Put him up on that pole until he tells us where the Witch went!"

The guards complied; they bound Fiyero to an empty scarecrow's cross, and he hung his head.

"Please, don't hurt him!" Glinda begged. She fought through the corn to the foot of his cross, but the guards grabbed her and guided her away. Glinda sobbed and screamed "Fiyero!" but she could do nothing.

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**Thank you witch-of-the-west9482 for reviewing!**

**Anyone else reading this . . . please review.  
**


	21. No Good Deed

"_Fiiiiyyyyeeerooo!" _Elphaba screamed. The air throbbed with her magic and mist swirled around her broom. She landed on the top of Kiamo Ko and spread the Grimmerie on its lifeless stones.

"Eleka nahmen nahmen atum atum eleka nahmen," she chanted, "eleka nahmen nahmen atum atum eleka nahmen! Let his flesh not be torn, let his blood leave no stain; when the beat him let him feel no pain! Let his bones never break and however they try to destroy him, let him never die. Let him never die! Eleka nahmen nahmen atum atum eleka nahmen . . . eleka nahmen nahmen atum atum eleka, eleka . . . ugh!"

The words blurred before Elphaba's eyes and she brushed tears from the Grimmerie's fragile pages. "What is this chanting?" she asked the sky, "I don't even know what I'm reading. I don't even know what trick I ought to try. Fiyero—where are you? Already dead or bleeding, one more disaster I can add to my generous supply?"

Elphaba sobbed against the unfeeling stone of Kiamo Ko until the air stilled and her magic ceased to flow, and then Elphaba died; the woman who rose from the ashes of mourning slammed the Grimmerie closed and stood on the narrowest edge of Kiamo Ko's roof, daring Fate to steal her sorry life.

"No good deed goes unpunished," she told the castle, "no act of charity goes unresented, 'no good deed goes unpunished': that's my new creed. My road of good intentions led where such roads always lead. No good deed goes unpunished!"

The green woman remembered happier days, a laughing sister dressed in pink. "Nessa," she whispered. The raven-haired woman remembered better days, a serious professor with knowledge to impart, "Dr. Dillamond," she breathed. The cold-eyed woman remembered a solitary night of passion shared, "Fiyero," she cried, "Fiiiyyeeero!"

The black-garbed woman stepped back and sank to her knees on the roof's edge. "One question haunts and hurts," she told the black stones, "too much—too much to mention: was I really seeking good or just seeking attention? Is that all good deeds are when looked at with an ice cold eye? If that's all good deeds are, maybe that's the reason why no good deed goes unpunished. All helpful urges should be circumvented. No good deed goes unpunished. Sure, I meant well—well look at what well-meant did! Alright, enough! So be it, so be it then. Let all Oz be agreed, I'm Wicked through and through!"

The grieving woman arched her back and reached for the center of her magic, pulsing deep inside her chest. "Since I cannot succeed, Fiyero, saving you," she whispered to the wind, "no good deed will I attempt to do again! Ever again! No good deed will I do again!"

The bitter woman rose—and Elphaba sank into the stones, her place usurped by the Wicked Witch of the West.


	22. March of the Witch Hunters

It was with great jubilation that Madame Morrible, the Wizard, and the Gale Force released a few angry witch hunters: a Scarecrow, a Lion, a Tin Man, and a little farm girl from Kansas. The Wicked Witch _wanted_ these four—and everyone else wanted the Wicked Witch dead. It had been an easy decision, setting a price for the girl's homeward journey. If she could kill Elphaba, the Wizard would (try to) send her home. If Elphaba killed the farm girl, Morrible would have an excellent martyr and Ozians would kill the Witch. That, it was agreed, would be easiest—then the Wizard would not have to attempt sending a little girl to his world.

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**I'm sorry it's so short. _For Good_ will be up within the next ten minutes . . . **


	23. For Good

The Wicked Witch of the West had done deeds Elphaba never would have dared: she had called the flying Monkeys and Chistery to her service, terrorized and finally imprisoned Dorothy and her companions (a Scarecrow, a Lion, and Boq). Without Chistery to hold her back, muttering what words the Cage had not stolen from him, she would have killed them all. Kiamo Ko had become synonymous with 'terror'.

Glinda the Good had her hands full of panicking Ozians and her heart full of sorrow for her friend. Somewhere between their last, petty fight and Fiyero's death, Glinda had forgiven Elphaba. Now, she had a task to perform—for both of them. It was not difficult for Glinda to discoverate that Elphie had lost herself; the first real crime committed and Glinda understood. Elphie was drowning in her grief. She was doing terrible things, things she would regret—Wicked Witch things. Therefore, when Glinda alighted and popped her bubble outside Kiamo Ko, she had two paths before her: rescue Elphie, or try to kill the Wicked Witch.

* * *

"Chistery, please," Elphaba begged, "If you don't at least try to keep speaking you'll—"

Footsteps interrupted the Wicked Witch and she whirled to face the stairs.

"Go away," she hissed at the intruder—a bubbly blonde in a sparkly ball gown.

"Let the little girl go!" Glinda ordered, clattering down the stairs "and that poor little dog, DoDo. I know you don't want to hear this, but somebody has to say it: you are out of control! I mean, come on, they're just shoes! Let it go! Elphaba—you can't go on like this!"

"I can do anything I want," Elphaba retorted, "I am the Wicked Witch of the West!"

A winged Monkey swooped between the girls and held out an envelope of wrinkled, stained parchment.

"You're back," Elphaba noted, "What took you so long? What's this?"

The Monkey simply glided away; Elphaba fixed her gaze on Chistery, who shrugged. He knew nothing of the secrets within that strange letter.

Elphaba's green fingers shook as she tore away the envelope. "Why are you bothering me?" she asked no one in particular. Glinda waited while her friend examined the parchment and watched a single tear escape as Elphaba read the letter.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Glinda asked, "It's Fiyero, isn't it? Is he—?"

Elphaba wiped away her tear and fixed dark eyes on Glinda—eyes that held all the sorrow of the world. "We've seen his face for the last time," Elphaba murmured.

"No!" Glinda cried.

"You're right," Elphaba continued, "It's time—to surrender."

"Elphie—I'll—what is it?"

"You can't be around here, you must go," Elphaba answered, "Go—you must leave!"

"I'll go tell them, I'll tell everyone the truth!" Glinda exclaimed.

"No, they'll only turn against you."

"I don't care!" Glinda stomped her foot and glared at her bestest friend.

"Promise me you won't try to clear my name," Elphaba pleaded.

"No—I won't do that . . ."

Elphaba sighed, "Promise?" she asked.

The girls stared at each other for a long moment, flickering light from Elphaba's lanterns dancing across their faces.

"Alright, I promise," Glinda finally conceded, "but I don't understand."

"I'm limited," Elphaba whispered, "just look at me, I'm limited, and just look at you—you can do all I couldn't do. Glinda—" Elphaba snatched the Grimmerie from its resting place, on a nearby table, and handed it to Glinda. "Here—take it," she said.

"Elphie, you know I can't read that."

"Well, then, you'll have to learn. Because, now it's up to you: for both of us."

"Oh, Elphie."

"You're the only friend I've ever had," Elphaba admitted.

"And I've had so many friends," Glinda sniffed, "but only one that mattered. Momsie told me, once, that everyone we meet has something we must learn, if we let them teach us. I don't know if that's true about everyone, but I'm who I am today because I knew you."

"It may well be that we will never meet again in this lifetime," Elphaba replied, tears threatening to escape her black eyes, "but you'll be with me, like a handprint on my heart—whateverway our stories end—you've rewritten mine. And, Glin, I'm sorry for everything—Fiyero, running off on you, _everything._"

"That doesn't matter anymore," Glinda whispered, "and anyway, there's blame to share."

"I believe you've changed me for the better," Elphaba said.

"So do I—both of us, we've been changed for good."

Elphaba wrapped her arms around her petite friend in a brief hug. There was a great banging and knocking from below them.

"What was that?" Glinda gasped.

"No one can know you were here," Elphaba cautioned, "hide yourself!"

Glinda concealed herself in a corner and watched as angry Witch Hunters burst into the room. Chistery cowered beside Glinda and laid his head against her skirt. She buried her fingers in his fur.

Elphaba twirled her broom and battled the Witch Hunters; Glinda closed her eyes and felt Chistery tense against her leg. Elphaba shrieked, an unearthly wail unlike Glinda had ever heard. Glinda opened her eyes and forced herself to watch: Elphaba slowly sank into the floor—a blur of green smoke and billowing black cloak.

"Elphie?" Glinda asked.

Chistery scuttled away, leaving Glinda to her grief: Elphaba's hat and cloak lay on the floor, but Elphaba was gone. "Oh, Elphie," Glinda sobbed. She clutched Elphaba's hat to her chest.

"Miss—Miss Glinda?" Chistery asked.

Glinda glanced at the Monkey. He held out a little green bottle—the bottle Elphaba had treasured because it was her mother's. Glinda nodded her thanks to the Monkey, who bowed and scurried away. Glinda dropped the hat where she had found it, but she kept the bottle: that was rightfully hers, now. Chistery had given it, and if anyone had a right, Elphaba's Monkey was that one.

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**There will be approximately two more chapters. If you're nice and review, I'll try to get them up this weekend between hectic work hours, which are the life of a writer with two jobs and a couple of volunteer positions. My schedule includes both of my paying jobs, a volunteer shift, a social event where I have to appear (so I can disappear shortly after it begins), etc. **


	24. Finale

Glinda entered the throne room quietly, her traditional high heels abandoned in favor of practical slippers. She held Elphaba's bottle in one hand.

"Well, I don't know why you're so despondiary," Morrible was saying to the Wizard, "I thought things went quite well: they're all thrilled to shreds with their brains and their hearts and everything. Why, Miss Glinda, I thought you'd be out festivating."

"This was Elphaba's," Glinda announced, holding the bottle out to Morrible.

"What's that, you said?" Oz asked, leaning forward in his throne.

"It was a keepsake," Glinda continued, "It was her mother's. She told me so herself. I've only seen a little green bottle like this one other time, and it was right here in this room. You offered me a drink from it."

Oz stepped forward and took the bottle from Glinda. "This belonged to her mother?" He pulled an identical little bottle from his jacket and compared them. "Oh, my Lord," Oz gasped, and there were tears on his face as he said: "I am a sentimental man, who always longed to be . . . a father."

"So she was yours, all along?" Glinda asked. Oz sank to his knees.

"That's it," Morrible said, "that's why she had such power. She was a child of both worlds."

"I want you to leave Oz," Glinda hissed, staring at the Wizard, "I'll make the pronouncement myself! The strains of Wizardship have been too much and you are taking an indefinite leave of absence. Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, Your Goodness," Oz sniffed.

"You'd better go get your balloon ready," Glinda informed him. "Guards!"

"Glinda, dear," Morrible crooned, "I know we've had our miniscule differentiations in the past—"

"Madame, have you ever considered how you would fair in captivity?" Glinda asked.

"Captivity?" Morrible laughed.

"Prison! Personally, I don't think you'll hold up very well. You see, my personal opinion is that you do not have what it takes. I hope you prove me wrong. I doubt you will. Take her away!"

Glinda slipped out to find Chistery and join the festivities. She was alone in her grief, except for the Monkey; both of them had to pretend they were as joyful as the dancing crowd was.

"No one mourns the wicked!" the crowd chanted.

"One person does," Glinda corrected quietly, "one person and one Monkey." She could not announce it, clear Elphaba's name and tell her story: she had promised, and Glinda the Good kept her promises. Elphie was probably right—the people would turn on her. Glinda wished they would, for her sake, but for their sakes, she kept silent. Someone had to end the Wizard's tyranny, and Glinda knew of no one else she could trust to do the job. She would have to do it herself.

Glinda hovered above the crowd, her bubble just out of reach: "Fellow Ozians—friends—we've been through a frightening time," she announced, "and there will be other times, and other things that frighten us. But if you'll let me, I'd like to try to help. I'd like to try to be—Glinda, the Good."

The crowed roared their approval; Glinda shivered. Surely, this ruckus could be heard as far as the lonely fortress of Kiamo Ko. Glinda shook her head: it would not do to think often of that deserted castle and the green girl who died there.

Elphaba had been lying in the cold, dark tunnel for hours when she heard a complex series of knocks above her. She stretched and unlatched the trapdoor through which she had fallen.

"It worked!" Fiyero shouted, laughing.

"Oh, Fiyero!" Elphaba cried. She scrambled out of the tunnel and knelt beside the Scarecrow.  
"I thought you'd never get here."

Elphaba hesitantly reached toward Fiyero.

"Oh—go ahead, touch," he muttered, "I don't mind it."

Elphaba arched an eyebrow and bit her lip. Fiyero knew she had trouble believing he was fine with his fate.

"You did the best you could," he assured her, "you saved my life."

"You're still beautiful." Elphaba whispered, stroking his burlap face. It was funny—he'd felt nothing since his transformation, but he felt her hands.

"You don't have to lie to me," Fiyero admonished.

"It's not lying. It's looking at things another way," Elphaba retorted.

Fiyero grinned and Elphaba helped him to his feet. He wrapped his arms around the girl he loved and felt her heat seeping through his straw.

"It's time to go," Fiyero said, drawing away from Elphaba's embrace.

"We can never come back to Oz, can we?" she asked, squeezing his hand too tightly.

"No," Fiyero answered.

"I only wish," Elphaba breathed.

"What?"

"That Glinda could know that we're alive—"

"She can't know," Fiyero murmured, "not if we want to be safe—no one can ever know."

Fiyero led Elphaba away from the room where she had bid her best friend farewell, where she had staged her own death to be free of her curse. Elphaba paused at the door.

"Because I knew you, I have been changed for good," she whispered.

Elphaba wrapped her fingers around Fiyero's and followed him—away from Oz, away from everything they had known, and toward a life together.

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**This is NOT the last chapter. I will post the last one Monday - sooner if you review. **


	25. Gorgeous

**So . . . I really thought I'd posted this on Sunday . . . and I had no reviews (which I thought the ending might spark) and I realized I hadn't posted it. I'm so sorry. **

**On a practical note: this is the last chapter, but I'm posting a note with credits, etc, at the end.  
**

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Elphaba took Fiyero to a place she had discovered during her fugitive days; a place so deep in the Impassible Desert no one without wings or detailed directions could find it. It was nestled in the center of the Desert's infamous sand dunes—a little life-giving oasis almost a mile in diameter. A few warm-weather trees grew around a deep lake and the earth around the lakeshore was rich, a darker color than the sand of the dunes.

Fiyero flopped on the lakeshore and plucked a handful of bright red flowers growing there. He wove them into a lopsided crown and set it on Elphaba's head.

"Since I failed to make you Queen of the Vinkus," he announced, "I shall make you Queen of our own little nation. What would you like to call it?"

Elphaba laughed and whirled Fiyero in an impromptu waltz, "Sennetti," she cried, "I christen this land Sennetti!"

"It's pretty," Fiyero said, "but why Sennetti?"

"It means Haven," Elphaba explained, "in the old language of Sorcery. And that's what this is: our haven. It can't support us, so we'll have to venture out—but we'll always come back."

Fiyero leaned forward and pressed his burlap lips against Elphaba's soft ones in a brief, sweet kiss.

"So, if I'm queen . . . what does that make you?" Elphaba asked.

"Your humble slave, Miss Elphaba, and your husband if you'll have me."

"Apparently Scarecrowifying you didn't dissolve your charm, Master Fiyero. Of course I'll marry you—when we find a way to change you back."

Fiyero shook his head. "I meant now. I want you to be _mine_, irrevocably, in the eyes of Lurline or Whomever else you like."

Elphaba rolled her eyes, but—as the sun set over the desert—they repeated age-old wedding vows with the sand dunes as their witnesses.

"I think I like being dead," Elphaba whispered as she pillowed her head on Fiyero's chest. _But you're all I have to live for, _she thought, _half my world died with me. How can I go on?_

Fiyero ignored the unspoken 'but' he heard lingering after Elphaba's words: "I like you being dead, too," he teased, "it's so much easier than skulking around Oz hunting trouble."

* * *

Every dark moon, Elphaba ventured into the neighboring nations—and once into Oz itself—to purchase, beg, or steal food. Sometimes Fiyero went with her, and sometimes he stayed in Sennatti. Between foraging expeditions, the green girl paced her sandy domain, flew in circles around the desert, and hunted for a way to fix Fiyero. He wished she would either find something or accept that she never would: it was agonizing to watch her burdened by guilt he tried to assuage.

"I don't mind," Fiyero assured her every time she seemed sad, but sometimes he was lying and Elphaba knew it—because sometimes Fiyero wanted nothing more than to kiss Elphaba and share her body as he had the night he ran away from Glinda.

"You don't deserve this," she would reply, "you deserve better." _You don't deserve me_, she thought, though she never actually said it.

Three years after Elphaba's "death", she flung her arms around Fiyero and crushed him against her. Her dark eyes danced and her lips curved into an unbidden, mysterious smile.

"Come, my love," she whispered, drawing him onto their bed.

That night, Fiyero learned that Elphaba could still kindle her magical fire in his otherwise unfeeling body.

"How is this possible?" he asked, his cloth hands tangled in her hair.

Elphaba bit her lip. "I'm not sure. I didn't even know it was possible until we tried, but I kept thinking—you can feel me, so I must draw your old self closer to the surface. Until tonight, I hadn't thought of looking for anything but straw beneath those clothes," she glared reprovingly, "you should have told me."

Fiyero kissed her, his burlap rough against her soft lips. "You seemed so unhappy," he said, "I didn't want to make it worse if we . . . couldn't do anything."

"I'm sorry," Elphaba whispered, "It's just—for so long fighting the Wizard was what defined me. It's—Sweet Lurline, I can't _be_ like this. I feel like the spirit of my world—at least the half that has nothing to do with love, or you—died."

"You're a revolutionary without a cause or a country," Fiyero offered, "You were the spirit of Oz—the spirit of resistance, and now you've won. The Wizard is gone and Glinda is doing amazing things for the Animals who survived. Your life feels—empty."

"Yes," Elphaba said, "yes, that's it. How did you know?"

"When I thought I'd lost you—after you went away—I thought I'd go crazy, or die. Then my life became about finding you, helping you. When I survived the Gale Force only to have you throwing fireballs at me . . . everything I was living for was gone."

"I'm sorry," Elphaba whispered, surreptitiously wiping tears from her eyes.

"Not your fault," Fiyero assured her.

* * *

Fall of 1382 died early, in a blaze of color and snow. Shortly after the first winter storm, Glinda the Good gave her last speech in the same courtyard where she had begun her political life so many years ago.

"Fellow Ozians—friends—I can't hold the future in my head," Glinda announced, "and I can't choose the road ahead. I am tired. It is time for a new ruler to stand before you with her passion and her fire—so, before we part, 'I ask forgiveness for the things I've done you blame me for.'"

Young Summer, 1383, ushered in the announcement that Glinda the Good was dying. After Glinda stepped down from leadership, she was hardly seen in Society; as Summer matured, she returned to her ancestral home in the Upper Uplands.

Middle Summer saw the funeral and burial of Glinda the Good. Chistery was never seen again; it was said he returned to Kiamo Ko, where he had once been slave to the Wicked Witch. He did return to Kiamo Ko for his last days, but not because he had once been a slave there—Chistery returned because he was the only being in Oz who still remembered Elphaba Thropp as more than the Wicked Witch of the West.

* * *

Shortly before Lurlinamas, 1383, Elphaba and Fiyero dug a shallow trench by the lakeshore. It was difficult—almost impossible—but they finished in time. Elphaba stretched out in the trench and released the magic on which she had been leaning, drawing from its strength rather than any resources her body had to offer.

"I can't help being relieved," Elphaba whispered, "If you hadn't been here, I would've surrendered a long time ago. Part of me did die when I 'melted', and ever since it's been a struggle just to _be_. I'm sorry I wasn't more—for you—"

"Shh, Elphie," Fiyero answered, "I love you." It had been excruciating, seeing the Elphaba's essence fade without her revolution. Nevertheless, Elphaba had endured for him, and Fiyero felt that her endurance was the greatest proof of their love; the years had not been kind, but they had been worth living.

"I love you, Fiyero. I'm—" Elphaba paused, searching for the right word, "I'm glad we got our chance—made the most of what we got, even when it wasn't what we wanted. I'm glad you were here to hold me together when I thought I'd die of doing nothing. And I'm glad it's over."

Fiyero thought that was the saddest thing Elphaba had ever said, so instead of answering he kissed her.

As the moon rose over the lake, Elphaba buried her face in Fiyero's shoulder and breathed one, last, shuddering breath. For a long time Fiyero just held his wife—his beloved—his Elphaba. Finally, he took a bottle of alcohol he had stolen on their last foraging journey and soaked both of them in the flammable liquid; it was something he never would have done if Elphaba were alive, and something that needed doing now. He took their flint and steel and struck them until, as the moon began to set and the sky to soften with dawn, he achieved fire.

Fiyero wrapped himself around Elphaba's lifeless body and sank into the tingling sensation of the flames consuming him.

"Together in death, my love," he whispered, moments before he crumbled into ash.


	26. Playlist Complete

_Painted in Red _took seven days and several pounds of chocolate to complete. I began it because I have read so many different characterizations of Elphaba, Fiyero, and Glinda—and I wanted something flavored with my unique perspective and experiences. I watched every bootleg video I could find, from almost every _Wicked_ production (including the ones in languages I don't speak). I listened to every Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth song available—both bootleg and legal.

I followed the musical storyline, but I inserted musical events onto a realistic timeline; in some places, I glossed over or intensified musical moments because I wanted this to read like a story—not a script.

I did not expect to be drawn into my own story, to follow it on an emotional journey through _Wicked_. If _Painted in Red _had not made me laugh and cry, you would not be reading this because I would have tucked my manuscript in a corner to rot.

I would like to credit the following authors:

The Squintiest Squint—Fiyero's stunt with the geese.

Thessaly—Maguire Hall.

Amethyst Esperanza DeLaRosa—Fiyero and Elphaba's skin as chocolate and mint.

Scandalous Intensions—Fiyero's hideout in the library (propaganda posters included).

* * *

Also, special thanks to my reviewers and to all who have finished reading this story. I hope you loved reading it as much as I loved writing it.


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